


Is This It?

by theotpeffect



Series: Snowflakes [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Coming Out, Eventual Smut, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Homophobia, M/M, POV First Person, POV Jean Kirstein, Soul-Searching, Underage Drinking, big brother Marco, their parents are actually decent people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-02-25 13:20:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 110,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2623205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theotpeffect/pseuds/theotpeffect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>What is the point of living? I don't mean to sound morbid. I don't typically think like this but this question... it's been nagging me lately.</em><br/>Jean Kirschtein wonders if all there is to life is school, then work, then death. But the new boy, Marco, shows him that there is so much more than he thought. Marco unknowingly teaches Jean the importance of those close to him and how to banish the fear of being judged and how to love the little things and appreciate everything that is offered. Marco becomes Jean's rock, his mentor and the one who shows him that the snow can be beautiful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean Kirschtein is just going through the movements. Particularly, going to school. But today is different, he takes a small step out of his comfort zone and invites the new kid, Marco, into his little group of friends. Throughout the day Jean gets to know Marco better and he decides that Marco is definitely worth keeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! Thank you for deciding to pick this up! I should warn you that I got really excited and got started on this right away when I was hit with some inspiration when I was bored out of my mind and doing homework. Well because I got started on this immediately I don't have too much of the background stuff planned out. I'm going to be figuring it out as I go so don't be surprised if you see tags appearing and disappearing. I'll make sure to stay consistent with the things that I publish though, so don't fret about that. Sorry this is getting long, I'll stop now. Enjoy!

What is the point of living? I don't mean to sound morbid. I don't typically think like this but this question... it's been nagging me lately.

Driving to school at seven in the morning Monday through Friday, eating, sleeping, taking a shit, keeping my passion secret, is this all there is going to be? Will the only thing that'll change in my life be the morning commute? Next year I'll drive to some college and maybe, hopefully, a few years after that I'll drive to some job that I may or may not want. And after that what? Get married and maybe have some kids? Then after that grow old, retire and then die? I don't think I could accept that. It just feels so...  _empty_. Like I'm forever stuck with going through the motions.

I sigh and pull into a parking space. When did I start thinking this deeply? Normally I would just shrug it off and think that it would get better and that some cosmic happening at some point would smack me in the face and say "hey this is it." But now that I'm growing up and getting a grip on the world it's becoming more and more idiotic to think that way. Nothing will come out of nowhere and tell me whether I'm doing things right and life sure as hell isn't going to make it any easier.

I kill the engine of my car and step out into the cold, morning air. I slam the door shut behind me as I crunch my way through the newly fallen snow and the student parking lot. I step onto the curb of the sidewalk and start heading towards the doors that lead to the warmth of the school. The only good thing about the cold is when my breath puffs out in front of me and I can pretend to be a dragon for a moment. It makes me feel bad ass, albeit a little bit childish.

"Hey Jean!" a familiar voice shouts for my attention. I turn and raise my hand in greeting and feel myself turn into a popsicle just a little bit more as I wait for my friends to catch up to me. Connie and Sasha. They can be annoying sometimes but I would be lying to myself if I ever thought that I didn't want them around anymore. Connie and Sasha, along with Armin are my closest friends. I might not have a lot of friends but I really couldn't ask for better ones.

"Hey there Kirschtein," Sasha says as they approach. She's eating from a bag of potato chips. Lately, those have been her daily breakfast.

"If you keep showing up to school with those everyone's gonna start calling you Potato Girl again," I say and snatch the bag from her hands.

"I don't know what's worse about that," Sasha said, grabbing her snacks back after I had taken a handful. "Bringing that horrible nickname back or having to stop eating potato chips."

"The struggle is real," Connie states as he follows my lead and steals some chips from Sasha as well.

"Would you two stop eating my food?" Sasha whines.

"You always eat  _my_ food," I reason.

"That's because you always have a lot of it at your house," Sasha says.

"You know, I'm starting to feel like the only reason you two go to my house is because of all the food," I say.

"And your Xbox and PlayStation," Connie says over a mouthful of chips.

"Good to know," I say.

"You know we love you," Sasha says and slings her arm over my shoulders.

"And your food and your gaming systems," Connie adds. 

"Thanks Connie," I say sarcastically.

"No problem dude," Connie says and makes another attempt at getting some more chips from Sasha. She is having none of it though and swats his hand away.

"No," Sasha says, as if she's reprimanding a puppy.

"Come on," Connie says and makes a sad attempt at puppy eyes. "Please?"

She shakes her head. "No way."

I think I'm witnessing a fight over a mostly eaten bag of Lays. I mean, if they were Doritos I would understand but a boring bag of Lays? I feel a slight disappointment in my friends.

"Can I have a chip for a kiss?" Connie asks, trying his best to sound persuasive. It isn't working. Even though he and Sasha are dating she doesn't seem to keen on the idea of giving up food for a kiss from her boyfriend. 

I turn around and take the snacks out of Sasha's unsuspecting hands. "How about neither of you get the chips and  _I_ get them all to myself." I lift the bag away from Sasha when she makes a move to grab them back. I laugh and she scowls at me.

"Give. Them. Back," Sasha hisses. Okay, now she's starting to turn a bit scary.

"Okay, fine," I say and hand her back the bag, but not before I grab another chip or two. She frowns at me and I hold my hands up in a defensive gesture. Lesson learned, never ever mess with Sasha's potato based foods. Knowing her for as long as I have I should have known this. Knowing myself I probably did and had made the same mistake at some point in my life and forgotten. I should start keeping track of these things, they might just save my life someday.

"Let's go inside before my balls freeze off," Connie says and treks towards the doors. I roll my eyes and Sasha bounds after him.

Once we enter the warmth of the hallways Connie, Sasha and I part ways for a time. We each have our first hour together but we need to stop by our lockers before we go. Also I have a feeling that Sasha and Connie are going to do that thing where they make-out in front of people's lockers and make it a really uncomfortable encounter when someone needs to ask them to move. At least they're cool about it and don't sneer at people, all the couples who plant themselves in front of  _my_ lockers are assholes about it. It makes me want to shove my tongue down someone's throat when they need to get their stuff for class. But I'm totally not bitter about this stuff, nope.

I head to my locker and shuck off my coat. I grab the science stuff I need before stuffing my coat as best as I can in my narrow locker. The school should really invest in wider ones, my jacket is blocking half of the stuff I'll need later in the day. I slam my locker shut and sling my backpack back over my shoulders. Time for science class.

I'm in the door just as the bell telling everyone they need to get their asses to class in five minutes rings. I'm good about getting to school early. Not that I would like to, that extra five minutes of sleep everyone else gets must be glorious but I would rather have to force myself to wake up early rather than narrowly miss five different car crashes in that god-forsaken student parking lot. I've managed to avoid it all year. It helps that the last class of the day is the one I have off, which is great. I don't know how I survived my other three years of high school without this free hour. 

I set my stuff down and take my usual seat at the table that Sasha, Connie and I usually occupy. The desks are meant to sit four but no one's ever bothered to take the empty seat that's always here. I guess we're just not likable enough. It's fine with me though, maybe some hot exchange student will decide that they want to sit next to me because that seat is the only one open. Of course there's a seat on the other side of the room, but it's less likely that they'll sit there. Why am I even thinking of this? It's not like there's going to be some French girl that's going to be coming around anytime soon. Besides, Mikasa is here, not here as in this class, but this school. I don't have any classes with her at all this year actually but I see her in the hallways.

Lately though I've been noticing that she doesn't quite have the same affect on me as she did when we were freshman. I had a huge crush on her then, it was pretty bad, so bad I thought would never go away. Pretty sad huh? But it has backed off a lot over the years. Now I'm a senior and I've kind of moved on. When I see her of course there's still that feeling of I-would-so-jump-into-bed-with-her-in-a-heartbeat thing but I think I'll survive if I don't have a romantic relationship with her.

"Did you hear that there was going to be a new kid today?" a girl in a neighboring table asks the girl across from her.

"No way really?" the other girl asks excitedly. I swear, having a new kid in class is like when someone gets married to someone else in a small town. "Do you know what they look like?" Oh, knowing Sally she's probably gotten a hold of a gorgeous man.

"No but I'm still excited," the first girl says. How could you not be? We've known Sally since the beginning of the school year and now she's getting married! Wow, wonderful times. Can't wait to meet her fiancee! 

Okay maybe I'm layering the sarcasm on a little thick. Maybe it's because I'm annoying myself because I'm starting to get excited too. But I mean, there is a slight possibility that the new kid is the hot French girl that I had been wanting to meet. Just when I was thinking about how nice sitting next to someone like that would be too. This is perfect.

The girls that had been gossiping look towards me and gasp. They look at each other and cover their faces with their hands as they giggle in that way girls do when they spot someone attractive. Are they looking at me? They've never given me the light of day before, why now? I look to my side, where they're staring and it suddenly all makes sense. I'm the closest person to the door so it isn't that weird that a guy who I've never seen before is standing awkwardly next to me, clearly hesitant to sit anywhere. This must be the new kid. Well, he isn't any French girl, but I'd be lying if I didn't say he wasn't good looking. He's wearing a shirt that shows off how muscular he must be underneath, not to mention he's wearing jeans that hug his ass quite nicely. Okay, let's not go there again. That was kind of a weird thought.

"Hey," I say. The boy looks at me in surprise, as if he didn't expect me to pay any attention to him. "Are you the new kid?"

"Yeah," he says and shuffles his feet awkwardly. "I- uh- don't really know where to sit."

"Well you can sit here," I say and pat the cold surface of the other half of the table next to me. "Or you can sit over there next to that guy, although I will warn you that he has a tendency to not understand personal space and will probably get his papers all over your desk in the next two minutes."

"Uh- is it okay if I sit here then?" the guy asks.

I smile. "Wise choice."

He gives me a grateful smile and sits in the empty spot next to me. Might as well make friends with him here, before the girls devour him. Don't half of them have boyfriends? Eye candy is eye candy I guess.

"I'm Jean," I introduce myself. Just as I do Connie and Sasha leap into their seats. They look towards Marco and open their mouths. I cut them off. "These two idiots are Connie and Sasha."

"Hello!" Connie and Sasha say in unison.

The guy smiles at them. He smiles a lot. I like that, it sure beats the complain about everything in sight, typical teenager. Maybe that's why I gravitated towards Connie and Sasha so much was because they were so energetic and  _positive_ about everything. It's a nice break from the near constant competition of whose life is shittier that goes on.

"I'm Marco," the new guy says.

"Welcome to anatomy class, Marco!" Sasha says, throwing her hands over her head.

"Do you guys like it here?" Marco asks.

"It's alright," I say. "The teacher is a little weird but likable and it's easy to pass the class as long as you study all the terms and stuff."

"We get to dissect things too," Connie says with a cackle.

Marco doesn't seem all that pleased with this information. In retrospect, he probably should have expected dissections. Connie doesn't miss this and he grins.

"Not too good with dissecting things are you?"

"No, not really," Marco admits. "The smell is just horrendous and having to tack the animals onto the tray is horrible."

"Horrendous," Connie echos. "That's a good word, you must be really smart, Marco."

"Not that much," Marco says with an awkward chuckle. Oh, he's humble. 

"It might just be that Connie's vocabulary is limited to words that allow him to make penis jokes and say 'that's what she said,'" I say with a pointed look towards Connie.

"I know a lot of words," Connie says. "Enough to bullshit my way through English class."

"If you actually did any of the papers," Sasha interjects.

"That's true," Connie says. I snort. It is true, if Connie did do the work he would probably be passing with an A. He likes to have fun though, and school definitely does not fall under the category of  _fun_. 

"Hello class," our teacher says as they walk into the classroom. They stop when they notice Marco sitting right next to me. "Oh! I almost forgot! We have a new student in class, his name is Marco Bodt."

Everyone's eyes are directed towards our table. Marco offers a smile and a tentative wave. After that most seem to lose interest, the excitement of seeing a new face leaving as quickly as it came. Marco seems to relax as everyone directs their attention elsewhere.

"I'm Hanji," our teacher says to Marco. "Welcome to anatomy. I hope you aren't squeamish with the human body and the bodies of various other animals."

At that Hanji turns and begins our lesson for the day. Throughout most of the class I'm catching Marco up on what we're learning and helping him along with the assignment for the day. It's nice getting to talk to him. He's a cool person, I like him.

With Marco there the class actually passes quickly, quicker than normal since this has to be one of my more enjoyable classes. Before I know it I'm packing up my things after the bell had rung. Connie and Sasha wave goodbye, off to their next class, which I do not share with either of them. As I stuff my binder into my backpack I see in the corner of my eye Marco fumbling with a piece of paper. He looks over at me in embarrassment and holds the paper out.

"Uh- could you tell me where my next class is?" he asks.

"Didn't they give you a tour of the school yesterday?" I tease and take the paper from his hands.

"They did," Marco says bashfully. "I'm kind of forgetful."

I laugh softly and look at the room number for his next class.

"You lucky bastard," I say. "Your next class is upstairs. You just have to go up the stairs that are towards the back of this hallway and then you're pretty much there. Of course, you can go up the second set of main stairs but I don't recommend that because you'll be swimming through a sea of people."

"Thanks," Marco says. He reaches for his paper and I scan the rest of his schedule. Awesome, he has the same lunch hour as I do.

"Do you have any plans for lunch?" I ask. Marco shakes his head. "Well you do now. I'll wait for you near the doors that lead outside in the cafeteria, the ones nearest the student parking lot. Sasha and Connie will be there and so will a short blonde guy, his name's Armin." 

"Okay," Marco says cheerfully.

"See ya later, Marco," I say and wave goodbye. On my way to class I'm already envying Marco's short trip to his second hour. I have to push and shove my way through this mass of bodies to get to my marketing class that's towards the end of the main hallway, where my science class was in the back of the school. Despite the size of this school there are still a bunch of sweaty teenagers clogging the hallways enough to make it near impossible to go any faster than a shuffle. When I finally break free and turn to get into my classroom I am already ready for lunch.

* * *

Four goddamn hours after I had met Marco for the first time I'm waiting patiently for him to make his way into the cafeteria. Sasha and Connie are beside me, a scene much like this morning unfolding from their bickering over a bag of chips. This time it's Cheetos and Connie is making a valiant attempt at keeping them all to himself because for once he paid for them.

Armin appears at my side and practically gives me a heart attack.

"Hey," he greets everyone.

"Hello," we all synchronize. I keep a look out for Marco.

"Are we going anywhere?" Armin asks.

"Yeah," I reply. "We're just waiting for someone else."

"Who? I thought we were too weird and nerdy to get anyone else to join our group," Armin says.

I laugh. I'm about to reply when Marco enters the cafeteria, looking a little lost and a little stunned at the size of the room. I gather that he came from a small school.

I raise my hand for him to see and his eyes immediately flick my direction. He looks relieved when he sees me ad hurries towards our little group.

"Glad to see you didn't get lost," I say when Marco reaches earshot. He smiles.

"I think I almost did. This school is massive," he says.

"It seems smaller once you get used to it," I say with a shrug. And the number of people becomes less impressive and more annoying. Also the interesting classes can become boring and monotonous. But hey, who's complaining?

"Hey Marco!" Sasha chirps. "This is Armin in case you didn't know. Armin, Marco." Sasha says and makes a quick introduction. The two exchange polite smiles and hellos before Sasha is dragging Marco outside.

"We're taking your car today, Jean," Connie says as he follows the two outside.

"In case you've forgotten, there are only four seats in my car and there are  _five_ of us," I say. "No, we're taking your truck."

"I've got a better idea!" Connie exclaims. "I'll tell you where we're going to have lunch, you give me your car keys and then  _we'll_ drive your car and you can walk."

"I will not let you be the driver of my car  _ever,_ Connie," I say. There are certain limits to what I can do and putting my beautiful 2009 Mustang in the hands of Connie Springer is not one of the things that I am capable of.

"We're taking Connie's truck right?" Sasha calls to us.

"Yeah!" I shout.

"No!" Connie says at the same time.

"Dude, my car isn't the TARDIS, all of us aren't going to fit in it," I say.

Connie sighs. "Fine. For today, I submit."

"You do realize if Marco becomes a permanent member of our group the only time we'll ever be able to take Jean's car again is when one of us absent," Armin points out.

"One of us has to go," Connie says and scans all of us. "I vote Jean."

"What are we voting Jean for?" Sasha asks. We've caught up to her and Marco who were waiting patiently for the rest of us in front of Connie's red Chevy truck.

"We are deciding who to boot out of our lives. Jean or Jean's car," Armin explains.

"Oh," Sasha says in understanding. "Then yeah, I vote Jean."

"I love you too guys," I say sarcastically. "At least I know Marco will always be there for me." I say and raise my head indignantly, looping my arm with Marco's.

"Get in the damn truck, Jean," Sasha says. Marco chuckles as I let go of his arm and climb in behind Armin. I end up sitting between Armin and Marco. Which isn't a problem until Connie takes a particularly sharp turn and Armin's shoulder bumps into mine painfully and I nearly fall into Marco's lap. Sometimes I seriously wonder how Connie ever got his driver's license. A couple of minutes later we're safely parked in a space at the local Subway.

Everyone piles out of the car and hustles into the building before the cold can hit us. When we're in the warmth of the restaurant we waste no time in getting in line to make our sandwiches. I notice Marco hanging back.

"Aren't you going to order something?" I ask him.

"Oh no," Marco says. "I don't have any money on me at the moment."

"I can pay for you," I offer.

Marco shakes his head. "You don't have to, I'm not all that hungry anyways."

"Come on, Marco," I say. "How could you turn down free food?"

"It's alright, really," Marco says. His eyes flick towards the sandwiches that are currently being sliced in half for the people ordering in front of us. Oh, I see. He's being polite, he doesn't want me to spend my money on him.

I smile and grab Marco's wrist, pulling him into line with me. "You're too nice, dude. It's fine, I've got you covered."

Marco returns my smile. "Thanks, Jean."

Maybe we held eye contact for a moment longer than was entirely necessary but when we finally turn our eyes away from each other the call for food makes us forget about it for the moment. Once everyone is sitting down we all become quiet and work on our food. Our lunch hour is the very last in the day, and unfortunately I don't have any of those super cool teachers who let me eat in class. I'm sure Hanji would, but you know, science classroom, chemicals on the tables from the other classes, possible frog juice from our last dissection. So I usually run on the fuel that my morning pop tart gives me, needless to say I get hungry throughout the day. I scarf down my food quickly and toss my wrapper once I'm done.

I'm the first one done and patiently wait for the others. Connie and Sasha finish at practically the same time. Then Marco finishes and finally Armin. We start talking again and I tell Marco about how the girls in the table next to us in science class were swooning over him when he first appeared. I ask Marco how his classes are. So far he seems to think that the new school is to his liking, so it seems like he's going to be sticking around for a while. That's good. 

Most of the lunch hour is everyone trying to get to know Marco better. Armin, Sasha, Connie and I have been friends for a while so usually we have pointless conversations. Now that Marco is here there's opportunity to talk about other things.

We learn that Marco is smart, which is no surprise, considering his diction at times. He's taking a couple AP classes and plans on going to college, somewhere local though. It turns out that he's actually quite family oriented, he says he doesn't want to travel too far from his home. He wants to become a doctor so that he can help people. He hasn't quite figured out what type of doctor he wants to be yet, although he's leaning towards a pediatrician because he loves kids. Which leads him on to talk about his siblings, his younger brother and sister. He practically beams when he talks about them. It's pretty amazing how obvious it is that he loves them. This guy is really amazing. He's very sincere and kind. Like, damn, he is  _definitely_ a saint.

After finishing his explanation about himself Marco looks at the clock hanging from the wall.

"When exactly do we have to go to our next class?" Marco asks.

I look at my phone to check the time. Shit. " _Right now_. We're going to be late."

With a few curses and everyone scrambling to get out the door we make it to Connie's truck before he careens back to school. I thank every god I can think of that the roads are no longer icy because if they were we all probably would have died in a car crash.

When we all get inside the school we scatter in the directions of our respective classes with hurried goodbyes. It was a good lunch, Marco is definitely going to be hanging out with us more often. I can't wait to see him tomorrow.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Marco bond some more and Jean gets to know him a little bit more. Jean gives Marco his number before they separate for the day and Jean goes home where a surprise waits for him. He then spends the rest of the day with his mother and father. Marco texts him at night and so does Connie, telling Jean of a party that will take place over the weekend. Jean invites Marco and Marco accepts also agreeing to plans of staying the night at Jean's house.

I was on my way to school for the second time this week, and usually around this time I would start feeling that anticipation for Friday. Now normally this would make my weeks long and miserable but right now I wasn't feeling that anticipation at all. I didn't even struggle to wake up this morning, which is something that hasn't happened to me in, like, four years. Sometimes I really do miss the days when I didn't have to show up to school until eight thirty -why did I ever even complain about how "early" that was? But I digress, the point is that I don't feel tired or generally mournful over having to drive my ass to school, which is weird. I can't exactly pinpoint what is making me feel this excited about actually going to school but I have a weird feeling that it might be Marco. I don't know, maybe I'm actually in a really good mood for once. I don't even feel the slightest urge to be satirical. Well I do, but that's just because I'm me and not because the early morning is making me more of an ass than usual.

Unlike yesterday when I tread my way through the snow and into school I'm not accompanied by Connie and Sasha. I have a quiet walk to my locker and get my stuff. I don't usually have quiet mornings like this, Connie and Sasha share the belief that a few minutes sacrifice of sleep is worth not having to deal with the idiotic drivers that seem to plague this school, so it feels like something is a little off when I'm alone all morning. As much as I like to bitch about human interaction I feel like I sometimes need it more than I let on. It's just kind of comforting to know that there are people that I can talk to I guess.

I make my way to Anatomy and walk into the classroom, expecting to be the only one there- not even Hanji arrives early like this- so it surprises me when I see Marco sitting where he was yesterday.

"Hey there," I say and slip into my seat. "I didn't know that anyone else would decide to come to school this early willingly."

"Yeah, my bus kind of drops me off really early," Marco explains.

"Ugh, I hated taking the bus." I say, shuddering at memory of being stuffed into that prison on wheels and being slapped in the face with the back packs of people going down the aisle when I was late getting to the bus and all the window seats were taken. Needless to say, I don't miss it. "I feel sorry for you, Marco."

"It's not that bad," Marco says. The expression he makes suggests that he's not entirely convinced of what he just said.

"You're such a liar," I call him out lightheartedly. "It's okay, you can complain. I know the woes of having to take the bus all too well."

"It's not that taking the bus is bad," Marco says and seems to hesitate. "It's just that... this group of girls seem to have grown really attached to me recently."

I laugh. "That sounds like the opposite of a problem."

Marco laughs, but it seems a little forced. "Well, they're kinda young. Like, freshman young. It's kind of awkward, I don't really know what to do about it."

That must be why he sounded uncomfortable. I would be a little weirded out if girls so much younger than I am started hitting on me too. Well, in the grand scheme of things their age isn't too far from ours, but during our age anyone that's really two or more years younger than you is a child. I don't know what that makes us though because being an adult sucks and we all know it, no matter how much we psyche ourselves up with the whole "new-found freedom" thing. Seriously, I'd rather be a child than an adult if I had to choose a side. Although it does seem like they both get the shit end of the stick. Children are underestimated and expected to know nothing when adults are overestimated and expected to know everything. And then there's us teenagers, too old to do anything fun or immature but still too young to really  _do_ anything. It's a fair world we live in isn't it?

"Wow, good luck with that, Marco," I say. He snorts.

"I was kinda hoping for some advice. But I think that plea for help kind of went over your head," Marco says.

"It did not go over my head, I was just... waiting for the right moment to bring it up," I say. Marco looks at me as if I'm being ridiculous.

"I'm starting to lose confidence in your advice giving skills," Marco says.

"I'll have you know I'm a great advice giver," I defend myself. "See, I'm that person who can give godly advice despite never having experienced anything. Like, are you having problems with a girl? Jean Kirschtein can help you, despite being single for seventeen years."

"What? You're lying, there's no way someone hasn't dated you yet, you're-" Marco pauses and then continues on as if nothing happened so fluidly it makes me wonder if he had ever paused at all. "You seem like someone who wouldn't just wait around for someone to ask  _you._ I can't imagine that you haven't asked a girl out and every single one of them has turned you down."

I shrug. "There was this one girl in the ninth grade who I liked. I probably asked her out every week but she turned me down each time. Now that I think about it, she's the only one, so far, who I've had an intense crush on. So she's basically the only one I've cared about enough to ask on a date."

"That sucks, Jean," Marco said sympathetically.

I shrug again. "It doesn't bother me. I would rather her turn me down than say yes and then ended up miserable just to make me happy. That isn't a relationship, man. Although that didn't stop my hopes from rekindling all the time." Marco looks sad for me and I smile. "Really, it's fine now. I've moved on." 

I mean it. I was sad for a while there but now that's gone and I don't feel that need to be in a relationship with Mikasa anymore. We've both grown up and gone different ways. Although that doesn't mean I don't enjoy talking to her on the rare occasions that I do or that I still don't want to get to know her. She still intrigues me. I think it's that whole  _mystery girl_ feeling that hangs around her, kinda like no one really knows her and the excitement of being the only one who does is enough to make anyone want to get close to her. I think that was what fueled my crush for so long. But that need is pretty much gone now. It's in the past and it doesn't bother me. 

"So," I say, curiosity fueling my next question. "Have you ever dated someone before?"

Marco looks around at the other desks. I follow his gaze and realize that we're no longer alone. In fact, a quarter of the class must be here. I must have gotten lost in the conversation with him and never even noticed as the rest of the class slowly trickled in.

Finally Marco seemed to convince himself that no one was listening and nodded. "Yeah, it didn't last too long, but they helped me figure out some things that I really needed to."

I'm curious as to what it was that he needed help figuring out but I don't pry. Based off of Marco's restless shifting in his chair he would rather I not delve too deep into that topic. It's cool, he doesn't have to tell me. Maybe one day when we get close enough, he'll feel free to tell me anything he wants, that would be amazing. I wonder if he has anyone in his life right now that he can tell all his secrets to. It's hard to imagine that he doesn't, he's too sweet to _not_  have a lot of people that are close to him. Maybe one day I can join the Marco Support Club.

"Hello you two," Sasha says and slips into the seat in front of us.

"Hey," Marco and I reply. I wanted to reply to what Marco had said but I don't really know what to say and now that Sasha's here I shouldn't bring it up. So I let it go. I find myself then feeling a weird resolve to get Marco to open up to me.

"Where's Connie?" Marco asks.

"He's  _sick,"_ Sasha says, using air quotes. "He's got a bad case of senioritis."

"I've had senioritis since I was in the ninth grade," I say. "The least he can do is show up."

"You're starting to sound like a teacher," Sasha says. I groan at her statement and bury my face in my arms.

"Please don't say that," I say. "I don't want to be given any type of roll of adult, ever."

Marco laughs. "You're going to be miserable when you graduate if you keep thinking like that."

"I'm already miserable," I lament. I can practically  _feel_ Sasha roll her eyes at me. Marco lets out an amused chuckle, making me assume that Sasha is being even more dramatic than I originally thought. I peak up from where my face was hidden behind the crook of my elbow and Sasha very unsubtly signing to Marco that I suck cock. What else are best friends for? I can't believe Marco's giggling at this. 

"We're not in middle school anymore guys, you can stop," I say.

"He's just annoyed 'cause it's true," Sasha says. I snort and check the clock to see when class is supposed to start. We have a minute. Well, that was enjoyable while it lasted.

"Wait," Marco says. "Is it true?"

Sasha laughs and I quirk an eyebrow. Marco's face turns red and he stutters.

"N-no, not the- um- sucking part. I-I mean, l-liking guys? Do you?"

I chuckle. "No, I'm straight last time I checked." 

"Oh," Marco says. Something flashes across his face. Disappointment? But why would he be disappointed by that? But then he's smiling again and moving on. "It's just that not a lot of straight guys usually have that kind of I-don't-care-that-I-was-just-called-gay reaction. At least not the ones I knew."

"It's not an insult, so I'm not bothered by it," I say. The bell rings but Hanji hasn't shown up yet, so we continue talking.

"That's good, to be so open-minded about something," Marco says.

I shrug. "I don't think of it so much as open-mindedness as much as being a decent human being."

Marco smiles. It's a relieved smile and I'm not sure why he looks so much more at ease than he was after I told him I was straight. Is this something I'm supposed to be in the Marco Club to understand?

Hanji bursts through the door and interrupts my thoughts.

"Sorry I'm late," they apologize. "My dogs were being troublesome. I swear to god, they eat  _everything_."

Ah yes, the infamous Sawny and Bean, our teacher's dogs. Hanji treats them like precious things but hearing all the stuff that our class has about them makes it pretty easy to believe that they're kind of a couple of assholes.

We get started on our lesson immediately and Marco's slightly odd behavior is pushed to the back of my mind. Like yesterday, class passes by fairly quickly and I'm finding myself becoming a little disappointed when the bell rings. I like Marco, it's fun hanging around him, even when we don't talk.

"Are you coming to have lunch with us again, Marco?" Sasha asks as she slings her backpack over her shoulder.

Marco smiles. "Of course." 

"Good," Sasha says, clearly pleased. "See you guys later then." 

Sasha flounces out of the door, leaving Marco and I to pack up. We get our things together in relative silence, just content to be in each other's company.

"Welp," I say adjusting the straps of my backpack to sit more comfortably on my shoulders. "Off to my marketing class."

"Bye, Jean," Marco says cheerfully.

"See ya later, Freckles," I reply, the nickname rolling off my tongue easily. Marco's lips twitch in amusement and I leave him with a wave. 

As per usual, the day passes by slowly and I begin to feel that familiar loathing for school that I normally do, the perkiness slowly wearing off as the day drags on. By the time it's almost time for me to leave for lunch, I'm practically twitching in my seat, impatient to get the hell out of here. When the bell finally does ring I shoot out of my seat and head to the lunch room. I didn't need to stuff my shit into my backpack because thanks to my growing impatience I did that five minutes before class even ended.

I head to the usual spot that I usually meet everyone and wait. I'm the first one here so I lean against the lunch table and scroll through my phone to preoccupy myself.

"Hey you," someone says at my elbow. I twist to look at them but I already know who it is by his voice.

"'Sup, Marco," I say with a smile. Marco comes around the rest of the table so that I don't have to twist my neck to see him.

"What are we doing for lunch today?" Marco asks.

"Dunno yet, I'm waiting for Armin and Sasha to get over here so I know for sure," I say. "I kind of want to get out of here but it depends on what everyone else says. What do you want to do?"

Marco shrugs. "I'm cool with anything. I actually have money today so it doesn't matter to me."

"Marco!" someone exclaims and then Marco is struggling for balance because a certain potato-obsessed girl is forcefully giving him an awkward side hug. She apparently came in with Armin because he's only a few steps behind her and stops by my side. We give a short greeting and then change our focus onto Marco trying to gently extract himself from Sasha's arms and Sasha still clinging to him adamantly. 

"You know you have a boyfriend right Sash?" I say.

"I know," Sasha says defensively. "Marco's just so hug-able. Doesn't he look hug-able?"

I laugh but study Marco a little. I do kind of see where she's coming from. He's got a muscular chest and arms, it probably would feel good to be wrapped up in them. Not to mention his kind and friendly demeanor is undeniably inviting.

"I could just squeeze him," I deadpan.

"I know right?" Sasha says, ignoring my tone.

Armin snorts. "As much a lovely subject as this is, what are we going to do for lunch? I'm hungry." 

"Let's go to Subway again," Sasha says.

"Nah," Armin and I say at the same time.

"I want a cheeseburger," Armin says.

"Oh, that sounds good," I say.

"A cheeseburger is technically a sandwich and you know a place that makes sandwiches?" Sasha says and pauses for what I assume would be _dramatic effect_. "Subway."

Armin and I groan. "We just had that yesterday." I point out.

"Too much Subway isn't a thing," Sasha says. 

I sigh. "Marco, help us out here, what do you want?"

"Uh, Sonic?" Marco suggests.

Sasha gasps. "Marco, you genius. I could go for a hot dog."

"You okay with that?" I ask Armin. He nods and we're leaving the school to get to the parking lot.

"Can we take your car?" Sasha asks me.

"Yeah, okay," I say.

"Yes!" Sasha and Armin cheer. 

"Too bad Connie isn't here," Sasha laughs. "He'd be freaking out."

"And asking me if he could drive," I grumble. "And asking if I could put the top down, even though it's not a convertible, because he's seen it done in the movies. Of course they're all different models of a Mustang."

"Quit your griping, he knows it bugs you that's why he asks all the time," Armin points out.

I grumble some more but instead of answering I sift through my backpack in search of my keys. I finally find them just as we reach my car.

"Wow," Marco says. He's trailing his fingers lightly over the white stripe that cuts through the rest of the dark blue paint job on the left side of the body. "Your car is amazing, Jean."

"Thanks, Marco. For that you get to sit shot gun," I say. "Sasha, you're now sitting in the back."

"Wait, what?" Sasha says incredulously.

"It's fine," Marco chuckles and gets in the back, on the side that isn't occupied by Armin. "Geez, even the interior is nice."

"Don't boost Jean's ego," Sasha says to Marco. "He's already so proud of it he's named it  _Freedom."_

"Because she gives me wings. I've got freedom because of her," I say, pulling out of the parking lot carefully. 

"How were you able to get this?" Marco asks.

I'm kind of reluctant to share. It might make me come off as a spoiled rich kid, which I guess I am sometimes, but I don't really want Marco to think less of me. It's not that I  _asked_ for a car for my sixteenth birthday, Freedom was just a surprise. _  
_

"Um, my dad's kind of a successful businessman so after he made partner with some company around the time my sixteenth came rolling around he got me Freedom," I say. "It kind of surprised my mom and I when he came home early _and_ brought a new car with him."

"You never told us that," Sasha says. "You always dodged the question when we asked so we just stopped. Although we had a fair idea since we knew your dad was loaded." I see Armin nod in the rear view mirror.

"It's a little embarrassing," I say. "I know you all love me but still, I would rather  _not_ have you all think that I'm spoiled."

"I think if you were spoiled you would be greedy with the stuff that you had," Armin says. "You're actually pretty frugal and you don't mind paying for others and as much as you joke about not letting any of us drive Freedom, if we really wanted to you would let us."

"Unless your name is Connie Springer," I say.

"Yeah, I wouldn't let Connie drive my car either," Sasha says. We laugh and just like that our serious conversation is gone. We know that it happened though, we're not going to pretend that it didn't and I'm not going to forget how my friends can reassure me of my insecurities. I have more of them than I would like, although I would like none and I don't think there's a single human being on this planet who has no insecurities. If there was such a human would they be doing it wrong? Or would they have found the point of living, that thing that has always been pestering me in the back of my mind, making me wonder where it could possibly be in all of this. Would knowing such a thing cause every worry, every insecurity to seem insignificant?

I take a sidelong glance at Sasha who's smiling and laughing as she recounts the story of when Connie drove them on their first date. She's told us this before, it comes up a lot when we tease Connie about his horrible driving skills because his nerves made him even worse than normal. We've heard the story a thousand times since they started dating a year ago but Sasha sounds so happy when she recounts it again and again so it never gets old.  I look at Armin in the rear view mirror and he's listening and smiling and nodding and saying the next part of the story with Sasha, but it's not in exasperation. He's sharing her excitement and joy.

Then I look at Marco. He's just as wrapped up in the story and he's  _beaming_. It's plain on his face how much he loves this closeness that we have. Even though he's a new addition to the group it sure as hell doesn't feel that way. Even though he's the only one in this car that hasn't heard this story before I swear it feels like he has. Even though all of us have only known him for two days it feels like we've known him for two years. I think he shares that sentiment because when he's listening to Sasha he doesn't look slightly disappointed that he can't contribute to the story like Armin is or he can't smile and laugh because he knows something funny is coming like I'm doing. He looks like he's perfectly content,  _happy,_ to listen and share the atmosphere with us.

I hope there's a day he can take part in the story too. 

Lunch ends too quickly. It was so enjoyable today that I again feel like I did this morning. I'm ready for the day again. I do wish Connie was here, it was a good lunch he would have enjoyed it. But there'll be other days, other lunches that we come from with our stomachs hurting and our eyes watering because we laughed so much. We recounted some more stories for Marco, as well as ourselves and Marco told us more of his siblings. I loved it, they're adorable as far as I can tell but I wish he told us more about himself. Even though Marco spoke about as much as the rest of us I feel like he was kind of hiding. We know his morals and his kindness and how big his heart is. But we don't know much of his past and by the end of the hour I feel like I want to know more of him, even though before I felt like we had known each other for years instead of days. I still do actually, but there's that chunk of him that I don't know and I'm yearning for it. It's not just that, I want to tell him more of myself as well. It wouldn't be fair to ask him to divulge more of himself when I can't reciprocate. That is how people become close isn't it? _Both of them_ know the other well, it can't be one way. I want that for Marco and I. I don't know why I want this so badly. Maybe it's because he's so inviting or maybe it's because yesterday- this morning even- I thought he was the type who could get close to anyone and today I'm starting to feel like he hides behind kindness. He's nice to everyone and maybe that makes it easy for him to become perceptively close to people, when in reality... isn't he kind of lonely?

We make it back inside and Sasha and Armin leave us so they can get to class. Unlike yesterday we actually made it back on time, but none of us want to get on our teacher's bad side so we part ways. Marco's about to leave too when a thought occurs to me.

"Hey Marco," I call out to him. He turns with a questioning look. "Do you have a cellphone?"

"Yeah," he answers.

"Awesome," I say. "Can I see it?"

"Okay?" Marco says and takes his phone from his pocket. He unlocks it for me and hands it over. "What are you doing with it?"

"Sending your nudes to your grandma," I say. Marco snorts and I smile. "I'm giving you my number, idiot."

"Oh," Marco says. I finish entering my number and give him his phone back.

"If you thought I was going to do something else why did you give me your phone?" I ask with a chuckle.

It was a rhetorical question but Marco answers anyway. "I guess I trust you."

I smile and we stare at each other for longer than necessary, just like we did yesterday. It doesn't feel like yesterday, it feels like an old memory that had been pushed to the back of my mind and had been brought back up because of something that shook me enough to remember it.

"Text me later, okay?" I say.

"Yeah," Marco says. We finally look away from each other and with a final goodbye we head to class.

* * *

 I throw myself face first on my couch and groan. Today was a roller coaster of feeling good and school slowly sapping that out of me. I only had one hour between lunch and the time I usually go home and now I don't feel like doing anything except getting on the Xbox and shooting at some things, maybe stuffing some junk food in my face at the same time. I take my phone out of my pocket.

**To Potato Girl: just got home**

**From Potato Girl: fuck u y do you always have to rub in the fact that u hav the last hour off??**

**To Potato Girl: :P**

That pretty much ends our conversation but it does remind me to be grateful that I don't have to sit in another class. I don't think I could take sitting through a teacher droning on and on about something that I can't bring myself to care about when I'm at my limit for the day. I wonder what Marco's doing. He probably has a perky attitude all the time. It makes me jealous, bitching about everything gets tiring, especially when everyone else my age does the same thing and there's no comfort whatsoever in it except knowing that at least I'm not the only one who's miserable.

I stretch on the couch and then sit up. I turn on the Xbox and the sound that plays when it's turning on nearly blows me back. Jesus, who put the sound up so loud?

"Jean?" someone asks. It's not my mom, that much is apparent. I twist around on the couch. My dad is standing near the entrance to the living room.

"Dad?" I ask. He smiles at me and I smile back. "I didn't know you were coming back today."

"I managed to get off early," my dad says. He's a slim man. It's where I got my slender muscles from. He's a head taller than my mom, although she's kind of short so that kind of makes him average height. He has lines around his mouth. I think they're laugh lines, considering how much he smiles. For business reasons or otherwise. 

"How long are you staying?" I ask, standing up.

"I have to leave again on Friday at the latest," my dad says.

"Oh," I say. I try not to let my disappointment seep through but it ends up being there. I'm embarrassed about how much my voice gives me away sometimes. 

"Come here," my dad says. I smile and walk over and hug him. I wanted to do this when I first saw him but I worried that he would think I'm some dependent little kid.

"It's nice to have you back, dad," I say.

"It's good to be back," my dad says. We separate and he pats my shoulder. "I still have to make a few phone calls but afterwards I'm all yours."

"Okay," I say. He leaves to go to his office and I sit back down on the couch, my good mood back again. I turn the volume on the TV down before I start playing the video game that was in here before. It's Skyrim, it's nice to just explore the map and let my mind wander.

I wait patiently for my dad to finish whatever he needs to. My mom comes in and checks on me a few times. We talk a little bit, but it's mostly my mom recounting how excited I was when I was little and my dad would return from a business trip.

He's a traveling businessman so he's not at home all that often. I don't really like telling people this, because then they usually start to judge my dad and say that he should be ashamed that he doesn't spend more time with his family. And they usually ask how my mother is doing right after. I know why, they think my dad is unfaithful because he's gone a lot. That's not the case. He _is_ gone a lot but when he's here he makes an effort to stay close to my mom and I and I know he would never cheat on my mother. He's not an asshole, contrary to the way businessmen are shown to be. He's honest and a person I can look up to.

"Hey Jean," my father calls from the stairs. "Get ready, we're going to go out for dinner in a little bit."

"Okay," I say. I toss the wagon that I had been throwing at random people and save my game. I turn off the console and get up. I don't know where we're going so I go up to my room and get a shirt that's a little nicer than the one I'm currently wearing. 

I go downstairs and wait a little while by scrolling through my phone. Connie texts me right as I'm about to beat my high score on Fruit Ninja, making me distracted and causing me to slice through a bomb. Damn it, Connie.

**From The Con-man: yo wats up??**

When did Connie even go into my phone and change his contact name  _again?_  

**To The Con-man: contemplating murdering u cuz i was just about to beat my high score on fruit ninja**

**From The Con-man: boo hoo ur life is so hard**

"Jean, I'm officially done with calls and everything for today. Your mother is finishing getting ready, so we'll leave in a minute or two," my dad says.

"Got it," I say.

**To The Con-man: ive gotta go my dad came back today so were going to hav dinner**

**From The Con-man: thats great bro! but i decided to hav a party this weekend and youre invited! you wanna come?**

**To The Con-man: yeah sounds good**

**From The Con-man: do you have marcos number or somethin cause i wanna invite him to**

**To The Con-man: i gave him my number today so hes going to txt me later idk when for sure tho**

**From The Con-man: ok whenever u talk to him tell him. also its gonna be on saturday**

**To The Con-man: got it ttyl**

**From The Con-man: bye!**

I put my phone back in my pocket as my parents come down the stairs. My mom's smiling widely, like she always does when my dad comes home.

"Ready?" she asks me.

"Yep," I say and head out the door with them. I don't know where we're going yet but neither of my parents are dressed up so it can't be a fancy restaurant. When we start the drive it's mostly silent, all of us just content to be together. Then our surroundings clearly show where we're going. "Are we going to Cici's?"

"We knew you would like that idea," my dad says.

"Yes!" I cheer. "You guys are awesome."

"I wanted to take you somewhere you liked since I would be gone for the first week of your winter break," my dad explains. I forgot that my winter break was going to be next week. It starts on Wednesday.

My dad pulls into a parking space and we all pile out of the car. We hurry inside because it started lightly snowing on our way here and it's cold.

My dad pays up front and we all fill our plates with amazing looking pizza from the buffet and seat ourselves at a table. My plate is piled high with all kinds of pizza, except for the vegetarian's pizza because that's gross. Who would want spinach on their pizza? I dig in and mostly let my parents talk for a while. My dad's hand is resting on top of my mom's and he's brushing his thumb over the back of her hand and they look so damn  _happy_. This is what I want. I want to fall in love with someone who looks at me the way my dad looks at my mom and I want to be able to look at them like this too, with neither of us even realizing what we're doing. And maybe have a kid or two to embarrass too.

My dad turns his attention back to me, his smile not wavering for a second after he practically tears his eyes away from my mom. "What's new with you, Jean?"

"Dad, you've only been gone for a week," I say, this isn't the longest he's been gone at all. "I don't think a lot can change in a week."

"Trust me, a lot _can_ change in a week. I met your mother after going to college for a week and it took a week for me to get settled into the company that has made me this successful. So maybe something did happen this week that I've been gone that will change your life later."

I think a little more. "I met a new kid at school. His name's Marco."

"Oh yes, you were talking about him yesterday," my mom says. I don't know why, but I feel like blushing. "He sounds like a sweet boy."

"He is," I say without thinking. "I- I mean, he's super nice. Like, unreal nice. I didn't know someone could be like that and he's totally genuine."

"How long have you known him?" my dad asks.

"Not that long really," I say with a shrug. "I actually just met him yesterday."

My dad looks thoughtful. "Tell me a little bit more about him."

"Sure," I say. I recount some of the things that Marco has told me over the past couple of days. I start with how he plans to become a doctor because he would like to help people. I tell him about how much he cares for his little brother and sister and how smart he is.

"It sounds like you two have already become good friends," my father said.

"Yeah, I guess we have," I say with an awkward laugh. 

"I'll have to meet him sometime," my dad says.

"Oh, yes bring him around for dinner and bring Sasha and Connie too," my mom says. She's fallen in love with Connie and Sasha. She's met some of my other friends but she seems to be the most fond of Connie and Sasha. Maybe because I've known them the longest. "Oh, remember the time you and Sasha had a cook off to see who was the best? You and basically all of your friends were all crammed into the kitchen, cooking."

"Didn't you make your mother's omelette?" my dad asks.

"I didn't know what else to make that would taste good," I say. "I had to step up my game since Sasha was making a ten ounce steak. I still don't know how she could afford that or even where she found it." 

We laugh and my dad nods. "Yes, definitely bring your friends around some more."

My dad turns and reminisces with my mom about a roommate that they had who was apparently a shit cook. He would at times turn to me to fill me in on parts that I didn't know of, my mom helping with parts he didn't quite remember. I hadn't heard this story before so I listened closely and laughed when my dad described a scene that sounded very much like something that would happen in a Sims game. Something on fire on a stove and dancing around in front of it in a panic and everything. When the story is done I realize I've finished my mountain of pizza and am ready for desert.

I excuse myself to get dessert. Their cinnamon buns are to die for and I'm eager to get my hands on some. I end up getting two and add a brownie just for kicks and giggles. When I return to the table my mom and dad are just staring at each other. They're smiling and beaming so much I might as well be looking at the Sun. My dad is still making circles with his thumb over the back of my mom's hand.

I allow them a few more seconds of peace before I sit back down, feeling a little guilty at interrupting their moment. But when I look up from my plate my parents don't at all look annoyed. Actually, they look just as happy with their attention towards me as they did when they were looking at each other.

I ask my dad about his trip and he tells me a little bit about the sights that were there. He goes on and on about how great the snow-capped mountains looked from the window of his hotel. He also said that the people there were friendly. Needless to say, he loved it. He said that he would like to take us there sometime although he says that about every place he visits that's even remotely nice. I guess he just wants to share his experiences with us.

My mom and dad leave me for a little while so they can go and get their dessert as well. My phone buzzes and I take the opportunity of being alone to look at it. I have to first wipe off all the sticky icing from my hands before I can touch my screen without making it look like a fucking five year old smeared glue all over it or something. I wipe off my hands on some napkins and finally reach into my pocket to take out my phone.

It's from an unknown number.

**Hey! It's Marco Bodt!**

I quickly add his number to my contact list and reply.

**To Freckles: hey there!**

**From Freckles: How's it goin?**

"Oh, who's texting you and making you smile like that," my mom says, making me jump a little.

"U-uh, it's just Marco," I say.

"He must be really funny, I haven't seen you smile like that for longer than I would like," my mom says.

"Yeah, he's pretty funny," I say. Was I really smiling that much? Just because Marco said hi?

My parents leave me alone about it after that. I don't reply to Marco, even though I want to, and spend some more time with my parents. I don't get to talk to my dad face to face too often so I don't want to ruin the rest of the evening by checking my phone, even if the reason is because I'm talking to Marco.

When it's finally time to leave it's nearly nine o'clock and all of us are tired and full from our meal. We were there for nearly two hours.

We pile into the car and I let my head rest against the window of the car. We drive home in silence, like we drove here in silence. It's comfortable and content. I decide to take this time to talk to Marco again. 

**To Freckles: sorry i left there for a moment i was having dinner**

**From Freckles: It's all good!**

**To Freckles: so whats up with you my freckled compadre?**

**From Freckles: hahah not much how about you?**

**To Freckles: nothin much just getting home from dinner with the parents**

**From Freckles: nice :)**

My dad brings my mom's hand up and kisses it gently before resting their connected hands between them again.

**To Freckles: oh ya before i forget how would you like to hang out this weekend?**

**From Freckles: That sounds great!**

**To Freckles: connies havin a party on saturday but i was wonderin if you wanted to stay the night friday too? you might end up staying all day saturday tho cause connie is not one for parties before dark**

**From Freckles: Dark is usually at 5 now so it's not that bad hahah**

**To Freckles: true :p**

**From Freckles: Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's fine if I come over**

**To Freckles: sweet!**

"Let's play 'who is Jean texting,'" my mom says. I look up from my phone. My mom smiles at me from the rear view mirror. "You're doing that smiling thing again Jean-bo."

I turn red at the nickname that my mom uses for me and because of the fact that having Marco come over to my house over the weekend is making me smile like a fool.

"Don't tease him too much, dear," my dad says and turns into our driveway.

"Thank you, dad," I say gratefully. We get out of the car and all go inside.

"You should get some sleep, Jean," my dad suggests. "You have school tomorrow don't you?"

I nod and as if to reinforce what my dad just said I yawn. "Yeah, okay."

"Goodnight," my mom and dad say.

"Night," I reply and trudge up the stairs. My phone buzzes and I read the text

**From Freckles: Sorry. My little sister who was supposed to be in bed an hour ago is wandering around, brb**

**To Freckles: its cool, do what u gotta do**

I take the opportunity to take a shower. I don't know how people shower in the mornings. How in the hell do they even wake up early enough for that? Nope, I couldn't do it. I have to shower at night or else I won't have time to do it in the mornings.

When I'm all clean and I flop into bed I twist around in the covers and check my phone and see if Marco has texted me yet. He hasn't, which is understandable because I was only gone for eight minutes, so I reach under my bed and take my sketchbook out. I tap my pencil against the sheet for a little while, trying to decide what I should draw. Thoughts of Marco flick through my head. I haven't tried drawing him yet. I mull it over a little more but when the image of my parents looking at each other so lovingly at dinner tonight pops into my head I can't pass it up.

I set my pencil to paper and begin drawing. The lines flow as I picture in my head the scene that took place not even an hour ago. I only get the outlines and part of the background done when my phone buzzes again. It jolts me from wherever I had lost myself and I look at my work. It's pretty shit. Their forms aren't at all right and the shading of their surroundings is off. I sigh and set my sketchbook under my bed again. I love drawing, but I don't think I'm all that good at it. It's the only thing that I actually have a resolve to get better at though. Except I teach myself because I'm too embarrassed to show anyone else my work. I haven't even taken any art classes in school yet. Which is kind of a problem because if I knew half the shit about art that I thought I did I would at least be a little better.

Once my sketchbook is put back in its home. I lie down on the bed and get settled into the covers. I turn off the light next to my bed before finally looking at the text that was sent to me.

**From Freckles: Geez, that took forever**

**To Freckles: ur not mad at her though cause ur a doting big brother lol**

**From Freckles: You know me so well hahah**

**To Freckles: so im assuming shes asleep now?**

**From Freckles: hopefully**

**To Freckles: u never told me ur brother and sisters names what are they?**

**From Freckles: My sister's name is Adelina and my brother's name is Macey although he thinks it's girly so we just call him Ace.**

**To Freckles: cute i wanna meet them sometime**

**From Freckles: That would be cool! I'm pretty sure they'd love you**

**To Freckles: hahah really? im not all that good with kids**

**From Freckles: I'm pretty positive that they would :)**

**To Freckles: ok ill just take your word for it lol**

I let my eyes slip closed after sending that text. When Marco replies I jump from the buzz of my phone. Geez, I guess I'm a little more tired than I thought.

**From Freckles: Do you have any siblings?**

**To Freckles: nah, but u make me wish i did what with ur puppy eyes when u talk about ur adorable brother and sister**

**From Freckles: hahah is it really that bad?**

**To Freckles: yes but ur cute when u do it so it all works out**

Holy shit, why in the fuck would i ever send that?

 **From Freckles: hahah thanks** **  
**

**To Freckles: so how old are ur brother and sister?**

**From Freckles: They're twins so they're both 8 now.**

I fight with my eyelids so I can continue to talk with Marco a little bit more. Whatever the fuck that was when I called Marco cute woke me up for a little while but sleep isn't going to let me go without a fight. It's definitely not working and my eyes slip shut for a long time when I try to send the next text. I finally relent and delete what I had been typing.

**To Freckles: as much as i want to keep talkin to u im about to pass out so im going to sleep**

**From Freckles: hahah ok. Night, Jean :)**

**To Freckles: see ya tomorrow marco**

I lay my phone down next to me and finally let myself get taken away by sleep. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In anticipation for Connie's party on Saturday, Marco stays the night at Jean's house. They have an enjoyable evening full of junk food and playing video games. When the time finally comes around for the party Marco meets all of Jean's friends. The party is great but something happens that makes Jean realize that he may feel more for Marco than he originally thought.

Finally it's Friday, the day that I had been anticipating for a long while. Over the week I had just come to terms with the fact that having Marco over excited me. I don't know why really, maybe it was just because I hadn't made a new friend in so long. I've known basically all my friends since middle school or the ninth grade. Connie and Sasha I've known since the sixth grade and Armin didn't come into the picture until the year after that. From there I subsequently met Eren Yeager. Yeah, that was a joy. I didn't meet his adoptive sister, Mikasa, until the ninth grade, thus starting my horrible crush. I also met my favorite homos in the ninth grade. Ymir and her girlfriend Christa. They were dating all the way back then, in the winter of their ninth grade year was when they started and they're _still_ together. From there I met Reiner and Bertholdt, who also started dating a month ago.

I wonder if Mikasa is seeing anyone. She doesn't seem like the type to want to date anyone really. You know maybe she's asexual or aromantic or something. I never thought about that actually.

I also wonder about Marco. I would be surprised if people weren't asking him left and right to go out with them. I wonder if he's accepted any of those offers. He  _did_ say that he used to date someone but I don't know who they are or really how long that relationship lasted. He said it was short but I don't know what qualifies as a "short" relationship for Marco. That could range from a couple weeks to a couple months. Although I'm leaning towards the _couple of_ _months_ end of the spectrum because I really don't think that Marco is the type to get into flings. I think he wants long lasting relationships because he's so caring I don't think he could break off any type of relationship with a person easily. That's definitely not Marco. I wonder what made them break up. If the person he was dating broke up with him I can't imagine why. I think anyone who's able to get that close with Marco like that is blessed, really. Who wouldn't want to get close to him?

The bell rings and I'm jolted out of my daydream. Well fuck. I was spending too much time in my head and didn't complete this stupid quiz. Does that even happen to people? I thought quizzes kind of shook everyone's nerves and made them focus on their work but I guess that isn't me today. I think my chronic case of senioritis is acting up.

I give my teacher my incomplete assignment and schedule to meet them in my last hour on Monday to finish the quiz. I guess I'll just have to postpone going home early on Monday then. I trudge out into the hallway, not really in the mood to go against the tide of students that is closest to the door going the opposite way of where I need to go. See, times like these is when I should be grateful to be skinnier than I would like but then there's the issue of my backpack. It's a real fucking hindrance and doesn't at all make it easier to slip through the crowd by twisting so that I crab walk through them. Sometimes I can manage to slip it off of my shoulders in a real emergency and hold it in front of me as I wade through this mass of students but then there's the issue of getting it back on without smacking anyone in the face.

I'm the last one out of my classroom so I just kind of lean against the doorway and wait for the traffic to become less congested. When I see an opening I slip through the crowd and emerge on the other side feeling like a ninja. I didn't even shove anyone on accident or have any awkward hand or butt brushes.

I go with the flow of the other students now that I'm on the side that I need to be and steadily move over until I can finally slip out and go to the library. This isn't my first choice for a place to hang out but I kind of wanted to work on the drawing I had made an attempt at yesterday. I walk into the library and find an obscure corner where I can sit and draw in relative peace. I brought my sketchbook. It's really mangled now from being shoved into places where I can hide the contents before someone can start rifling through it. I kind of feel guilty whenever I see the curled in corners and pages that I had torn out in frustration, only to messily shove them back in their place, promising to work harder on it later. Most of those I don't really finish. I should some day and I should really stop being so ashamed of something that I love so much. I don't know, I'm just so  _bad_ at it that I feel like I shouldn't show it to anyone. Although maybe an art teacher or two wouldn't hurt. Teaching myself and figuring out areas that I can improve by myself can get tough sometimes, it slows down progress. 

I get myself settled into a little corner. I open my sketchbook to an empty page. I scrapped the attempt of the drawing I made yesterday, it wasn't working out and sometimes I think it's better for me to just start fresh sometimes. Seeing what I was originally planning sometimes gets me stuck in that mindset that I have to do it  _that way and no other way_. Yeah, that's not the best of solutions sometimes. 

This time I start sketching my parents first. I don't know what the hell I was thinking when I decided to do some background stuff first last time. This feels right.

I start with their torsos. I even draw the parts that would be hidden behind the back of a chair, I can just erase the extra lines later. Then I draw their arms, extending toward the table top that isn't quite there yet and sketch a rough lump that is supposed to be their joined hands. I saw something like this online, start with simple shapes and lines and then add more detail as I go. I take their word for it and their hands end up actually looking decent. I draw a quick outline of what I imagine the table top to be underneath their hands.

I move onto the chairs that my parents are supposed to be sitting on. It's not too hard. When I'm done with that I press my pencil where I will start drawing my dad's head. This'll be the toughest part. Capturing and drawing their expressions is going to be hard. I don't know if I could do it if they were right there in front of me to use for reference, much less from memory. I try anyways. Again, I start with the simple shapes, the way their head looks from the side and then the way their hair falls down their head. Their noses and mouths. I can't seem to get the right amount of softness translated through a few small lines that would be their smiles though. I try a few times before giving up and settling for normal smiles. Then the little of their eye that a person could see from their side-profile. This part is what I was dreading. As soon as I try I grow frustrated. I can't seem to get that softness in the crinkle of the corner of their eye or the emotions in their eyes.

I erase and then redraw and erase again and redraw it again. I go on for a long time and finally huff in frustration. I move on to the background. I draw the window behind them and the light flurry of snow. I draw the light above them and the hint of other tables that aren't completely in the scene. Then I start shading and marvel at how it starts to come to life. I add more details in their hair and small crinkles in their clothes. I lightly make shadows around them that give off a more intimate setting while letting the rest remain normal. It makes them seem like they're in their own little bubble and that the rest of the world can't touch them. That was how they looked last night, really.

The bell rings and I'm surprised by how quickly the time flew by. I look down at what I had done. It's far from completed. I need to make tweaks here and there at places that seem off and I need to erase some unnecessary shading in places where I went a little crazy and I need to add it in places that are lacking. I also need to do their faces. All it is right now is a nose and on my mother a stray hair or two cutting down her cheek. I erased their mouths because looking at it made me cringe. I close my sketchbook and hop up. Time to get Marco.

I stuff my sketchbook into my backpack as I walk out of the library. I forgot I needed to get to my locker so I go upstairs and quickly get my jacket and a notebook that I have a suspicion that I'll need later. I close my locker and hustle downstairs. I go to the appointed meeting area that Marco and I agreed on. It's really just the place that we meet up at lunch so I head straight there. My locker is near the stairs that lead to the art rooms and, in a short hallway a little ways to the left, the lunchroom. So it doesn't take long for me to go down those stairs and pop into the lunch room.

When I enter Marco's already there, leaning against the lunch table where we usually stand in front of and decide what's going to happen for lunch. Marco looks slightly awkward, standing there alone. I stride up to him and try as hard as I can to sneak up on him from behind. I creep along and slowly extend my arms until I'm close enough to reach him. Then I jump and slam into his back.

"Boo!" I say as I make contact with him. Marco gasps and is pushed forward by my weight until he finally finds his footing again. He clutches at his chest and whirls around. 

"Christ, Jean I think I almost died from a heart attack," Marco says with a shaky laugh. 

I laugh, a little maniacally, as Marco's deer-caught-in-the-headlights look fades away. 

"You know," Marco says once he's composed. "Despite your griping about Connie and Sasha, the three of you act so much alike sometimes it's scary."

I snort. "I know, I know. My bitching is just for show most of the time."

"Your signs of affection can be misleading sometimes, you know that right?" Marco says.

"I know," I say and smirk. "It's part of my charm."

Marco tries not to laugh but fails miserably. "Sorry," he says, hiding his wide smile behind one of his hands. I stare for longer than I probably should before I finally can make my brain work again.

"Marco, I thought you were one of the nice ones," I say. "Now you're laughing at me?"

Marco laughs more, presumably because of the pouting lower lip thing that I'm trying to pull off.

"I _am_  one of the nice ones, at least I like to think that," Marco says behind bursts of laughter. "Can I  _not_  laugh at one of my friends ridiculous attempts at smirking?" 

"I would like to see you do much better," I tempt him. Marco composes his face first. Then he looks me straight in the eye and  _smirks._ I'm not talking mediocre, the-crap-I-pulled kind of smirking. I'm talking super-model, fanfiction worthy  _smirking._ "Yeah. I think you win."

Marco lets a genuine smile replace his smirk and bows cordially. "Thank you."

"I don't think anyone could have beat _that,_ even if they tried," I say. Marco straightens and when his eyes fall on me again I feel my face heat up, even though I really have no reason to. I look away and towards the parking lot. It looks a little less crazy after we've stood here talking for a little while. Marco twists to see what I'm looking at.

"Was that whole smirk-off just a ploy to wait longer for everyone to leave?" Marco asks, turning back to me.

"You're on to me," I joke with raised hands.

Marco glances over his shoulder again. "It's still pretty crazy out there do you want to wait longer?"

I look out the window. "I've seen worse. Hell, I've had to drive through worse in this parking lot." Suddenly I remember something from the first day I met Marco, when he looked amazed at the size of the cafeteria. "Did you come from a small school?"

Marco nods. "Yeah, I wasn't at all prepared for all of this."

"You poor soul," I say. "Well, I guess we should go out and face the parking lot or else we're going to be stuck here forever." I go to the doors with Marco by my side and step into the chilly air. I shiver and zip my jacket up. "I hate the cold. And the snow. Just winter in general."

"I like winter. The snow is so beautiful when it's on the ground and when it's falling too. It always feels so peaceful to me," Marco pauses for a moment and I turn to see why he's stopped only to end up with a chestful of snow. "And I get to do that."

Marco is wearing a mischievous smile. I stare him down. Then I grab as much snow as I can and throw it at him blindly. A lot of it puffs around him harmlessly but some hits him right in the face. When it hits him his eyes and nose become scrunched up and I'm tempted to throw another clump at him just for this reaction. I laugh.

"You shouldn't have thrown that snow at me, Bodt," I say, still laughing. Marco wipes his face and when his hand is brought down I see that mischievous smile hasn't left his face. "Oh no. No, don't even think of throw-"

I don't get to finish my sentence because then a face-full of Satan's favorite ice powder is pushed right into my face. I splutter and wipe my face frantically, trying to get it off.

"Fuck, that's  _cold,"_ I exclaim.

"It's snow, Jean," Marco says. "What exactly were you expecting? Warmth?"

"Marco are you  _sassing_ me?" I ask once any semblance of moisture on my face is gone.

"Maybe," Marco says playfully. 

"I like it," I say with a grin. "Sassy looks good on you."

Marco laughs. "It's part of my charm."

And then- holy wow- he's doing that smirk thing again. I feel my cheeks flare again and for a moment I forget that I was ever cold. 

I laugh to cover up how flustered that made me. "You're an idiot."

"I would have to argue that you're a bigger idiot that I am," Marco teases. I shove at his shoulder playfully.

"Come on, let's go to the blessed heating of my car," I say and start towards the parking lot. Marco walks at my side and we head towards my car in a companionable silence.

"Oh, yeah, Jean," Marco says sheepishly. "Um, I kind of forgot my extra clothes at my house. Could we- uh- go get them?"

"Yeah," I say with a reassuring smile at him. He doesn't need to be embarrassed and I try to show him that. I already know how forgetful he can be. He's had me remind him where some of his classes are already and even though we've only seen each other for five days, three of them he's asked me for a pencil that he could borrow because he lost his other one or couldn't find it in his backpack anywhere. He also sometimes works on forgotten homework during Anatomy and lunch.

We get into the car and throw our backpacks into the back seat. After the car is started and the heat is blasting through the vents I very carefully pull out of the parking space. I usually park towards the outskirts of the parking lot but that doesn't mean some dumbass can't come out of nowhere and crash into me. Trust me, it's almost happened a few times.

After I've safely navigated into the long line of cars that leads to the exit of the parking lot I ask, "So where to, Freckles?"

Marco smiles at the nickname and says, "Turn a right up here for now, and I'll just tell you when to turn and stuff when we get to those places."

"Sounds like a plan," I say. We're crawling to the front and when we finally get there I take a right out of the parking lot. Marco indicates where I need to go before we can go to his house. It's not too far off I think. It only ended up being a ten minute drive and then I'm pulling up to the front of Marco's house. It's a cute two story house. It looks inviting and... I don't know, happy. Can you even describe a house as looking happy? This one does.

Marco smiles at me. "I'll be back in a minute."

"I'll be waiting here," I reply. Then Marco's getting out of the car and shutting the door behind him. I watch him go up to his front door. Dang, his jeans really do make his ass look good. I stop myself and blink, trying to clear my thoughts from the fucking weird place I had just visited. Jesus, why do I think about these things? Why am I so weird? 

Before Marco can reach the porch a little girl comes bounding out of the house and clings onto him. When she finally pulls away from him she's jumping up and down and I can see Marco smiling so widely. Finally after the girl bounds around him a couple more times he scoops her up and I can see her giggle and cling to him as he runs inside with her swung over his shoulder.

When the door shuts behind Marco I sit back and realize that I'm smiling. That had to be one of the most adorable sights that I had ever seen. The little girl must have been Adelina, Marco's sister. She looked a lot like him. She has the same dark brown hair that Marco has, tied into a little pony tail. I couldn't really see her eyes but I wouldn't be surprised if she had the same light brown ones that Marco had or the same freckles on her cheeks. I wonder what Macey looks like. Does he have the same brown hair and eyes? Does he have freckles too?

I sit back and wait for Marco to return patiently. I don't have to wait too long anyways because Marco's hurrying back only a minute after he had gone into the door with his little sister draped over his shoulder. Marco hustles to the car and opens the door, throwing his stuff into the back before he climbs in. He only has one leg in the car though when the front door bursts open and a little boy comes bounding out, closely followed by Adelina.

"Marco!" the little boy says and flings himself onto Marco. Marco laughs softly and hugs the little boy back. "When are you coming back?"

"I'll be back tomorrow night," Marco informs him. The little boy makes a pout-y noise and pulls back. He looks around Marco and right at me. I'm struck with how similar to Marco he looks. Geez, the kid is practically Marco's, shorter, identical twin.

Marco must have noticed his curiosity because he steps out of the car and moves to the side. "This is Jean, guys. Say hi."

Adelina, who had been lingering behind the little boy, steps forward. I lean over so I can get a better look at them and wave. "Hey there."

"Hi, I'm Adelina," Adelina introduces herself.

"I'm Ace," the little boy mumbles, taking after his sister's lead.

Marco leans down and addresses me, "So now you can say you've met the two I'm always talking about."

I smile and say to Ace and Adelina. "He does talk about you guys  _all the time."_

"Really?" Ace asks excitedly. I nod and smile.

"He seriously gushes over you guys, we talk about a lot of things but he always somehow turns it around to you guys," I say.

"And you always manage to direct the conversation towards your car," Marco says.

"I do not," I say faking offence.

Marco laughs and I join in. When we finally stop we do that staring-for-longer-than-necessary thing that we've been doing more than we should. I don't know where it comes from but it's nice.

We finally break eye contact when Adelina starts tugging on Marco's arm, trying to get his attention. Marco turns to her and Adelina gestures that she wants to tell him something. Marco turns his head so that she can whisper whatever she needs to into his ear. She does and Marco begins to turn red. He just shakes his head and is about to straighten again when Adelina is tugging him back down. She whispers something in his ear again.

"A-Adelina," Marco says with a light scolding tone. His face is really red though and Adelina just giggles at his expression. 

"Come on, Ace," Adelina says and pulls on her twin's arm. "Let's go inside, it's really cold."

"Bye, Marco," Ace says as he gets pulled back to the house. Marco waves at them and finally gets into the car. His cheeks are still red. 

"What did she say to make you that embarrassed? I've gotta learn how to do that," I say. 

"Nothing. Nothing, she said nothing," Marco says quickly. I laugh but drop the topic, taking the hint that he isn't going to be giving anything away anytime soon. 

Marco and I chat idly while I navigate us out of Marco's neighborhood and drive to mine. Most of our talk is just Marco talking about his siblings a little more. He mostly tells me that Ace is really shy and Adelina is the more outgoing of the two. He tells me that they even each other out. Ace holds Adelina back when she's about to do something stupid and Adelina lets Ace come out of his shell a little more. Hearing of their dynamic really makes me want to witness it at some point. They sound like a good pair and the way that Marco describes them, it kind of sounds like they're each other's best friends. From the looks of things at Marco's house, he's also their best friend. It's cute how close these three are.

I pull into my driveway, not too long after leaving Marco's house. Once I kill the engine I get out with Marco behind me. He looks slightly amazed. I realize that my house is a little bigger than the average. With my dad's work we're kind of well off. I grow a little embarrassed over the fact that I had forgotten this. Does that make me a spoiled rich kid or something? It makes me feel like one, in all honesty.

Marco and I walk to the front door together and I unlock it before stepping inside. Marco looks around the foyer and at the pictures on the walls in interest.

"Jean-bo? Is that you?" my mom calls from the living room. I have to stop myself from cringing at the nickname. Marco sees my reaction and chuckles.

"Cute," he says.

"Shut up," I mutter in embarrassment. Marco only laughs a little harder.

When we move into the living room I see my mom hard at work setting up a... purple Christmas tree. It's big and dominates a good sized corner of the living room. My mom is opening boxes filled with garland and ornaments.

"Oh there you are," my mom says. She smiles when she sees Marco. "You must be Marco."

"Yes. And you must be Mrs. Kirschtein," Marco says politely. He's smiling, as always.

"Please, call me Catherine," my mom says. Marco smiles wider and nods.

"It's nice to see Jean making more friends," my mom says. "He's had the same friends for the past four years. Not that I don't love them all, but it's nice to see a new face."

"Mom," I say in that exasperated teenager voice. "I can meet new people."

"Not from what I've seen," Marco says.

"You too, Marco?" I say and sigh. "I have no one to turn to now. I am alone."

"I think one of the reasons he hasn't met anyone in a while is because he's so dramatic," my mom says in a stage whisper to Marco. They snicker together and I just roll my eyes at them.

I move closer to the giant purple tree that has appeared in my living room over the time that I had been gone at school. 

"Are you feeling a little adventurous this year, ma?" I ask. 

"I thought it was pretty," my mom says and caresses one of the branches. "Don't you think it's pretty?" 

I look at it a little more. I suppose it could be pretty. I mean, now that I've gotten over the surprise of seeing a purple tree it actually looks kind of nice. It's very obviously artificial, not just from the purple, it has a light dusting of white over the branches, which is supposed to be a coating of snow. But despite the obvious fact that the tree is fake it has its own charm.

"Yeah, it's pretty," I admit. "What do you think of it Marco?"

"I like it," Marco says. "It's cute. I mean, as cute as a tree as massive as this one can be." 

"See? It isn't all that bad now is it?" my mom says and takes some silver garland from one of the boxes. I recognize it, we've had it on our tree nearly every year. "Would you two mind setting this up? Starting at the top of the tree?"

I take it in my hands and Marco and I situate ourselves on opposite sides of the tree. I hook one end of the garland onto a random branch and wind it around my side of the tree until I pass it off to Marco. Our fingers brush as I hand it over to him and moment later our fingers brush again, on the other side of the tree. We slowly work our way down, having established a rhythm quickly. My mom passes us more garland as we need it. We reach the middle of the tree quickly. While we work my mom and Marco talk. It's mostly my mom trying to learn more about Marco so I leave the talking to them, just happy to see them getting along. Although, I don't think there's any way that Marco and my mom could meet  _anyone_ that they couldn't get along with.

When Marco and I finally get to the bottom we get on our knees and finish wrapping the silvery stuff around the tree. We stand up and step aside as my mom fusses with the areas that are supposedly uneven. I don't really see any difference but whatever makes my mom happy I guess. When my mom is done evening out the garland and making it pretty much perfect she claps her hands together.

"Now time for the ornaments," my mom says. She pulls forward another box that she opened earlier and takes out old packages and new packages of ornaments alike. I notice that all the ornaments are gold, purple, or various shades of silver. 

"Why aren't there more colors?" I question, starting to put them onto the tree.

"They wouldn't match with the tree," my mom says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Marco nods. "I'm not the most fashionable person and even I knew that, Jean."

"I call bullshit on you not being fashionable," I say. "You always find the best fitting jeans. Also your shirts make it super apparent that you're ripped."

"I wouldn't say that I'm _ripped_ ," Marco says with a chuckle. 

"Okay, maybe I exaggerated a little bit. That doesn't mean your body isn't nice looking and muscular," I say. There's silence in the room and I realize what has just come out of my mouth. Marco's blushing intensely and suddenly has become very interested in getting his ornament onto the tree. I glance towards my mom and she looks scrutinizing and thoughtful. I laugh to cover up how much I want to fucking melt into the floor. "I mean, I'm complimenting you as a straight guy anyways, that should be telling you something, Marco." Well fuck, that sounded way more "closeted gay" like than what I said before.

Marco laughs. "I'll take your word for it then. Thanks for that confidence boost."

We both laugh awkwardly and I'm starting to get that feeling where you've embarrassed yourself so much that you can hardly believe that you're still alive after that incident. As I wallow in my embarrassment I don't notice my mom getting up until she speaks.

"Do you two want some cookies? I baked some earlier today and I need guinea pigs to decide whether they're good enough to serve on Christmas."

"Yeah that sounds great!" Marco says enthusiastically. 

"Alright then," my mom says. "I'll be right back."

Marco and I work in silence, an awkwardness still lingering over the silence in the room. I'm tempted to apologize for being an utter fucking idiot, but I know that would only make things worse, not better. So I wait until Marco says something. 

"Does your mom bake a lot?" Marco asks.

"Yeah, kind of," I say. "She used to be a stay at home mom so it wasn't uncommon for me to come home and find some sweets that I can stuff my face with when I come home for school. But she started college recently so that's been happening less and less, not that I mind, I understand completely. What about you? Does one of your parents bake or something?"

Marco shakes his head. "Nah, they both work a lot so they don't typically bake." 

I slowly feel the awkwardness fuck off as we continue talking.

"Oh yeah, you said your mom was a nurse and your dad worked at a restaurant right?" I ask. He's brought this up before, I'm sure of it.

"Yeah," Marco says.

"Here you are," my mom says behind us. I didn't even realize that she had come in. "So, tell me more about your parents jobs."

I take a few cookies as Marco tells my mom more about his parents. They chat about it a little more and I sit on the couch, content just to listen to them.

"I don't think I said it was break time," my mom says after Marco finishes filling in my mom.

"But there are cookies," I say. "I couldn't possibly eat and work at the same time."

"It's just unbelievable how hard your life is isn't it?" my mom asks with fake sympathy. 

"I know," I say. "Marco knows. My life is so hard isn't it?"

"I don't envy your life," Marco says sarcastically. He smiles at me and grabs my wrist to haul me up. I groan and go limp, falling back on the couch. "How mature, Jean."

"I'm eating," I grumble.

"A cookie," my mom says. "That only requires one hand, last I checked it doesn't take a lot of effort to hang things onto a tree."

"Come on, Jean. Quite whining," Marco says.

I don't stop whining, but I get off the couch and help with putting the rest of the ornaments on. My mom, Marco and I make small talk through the rest of the time we set up the tree. The topic of how nice snow is is visited again and I'm up against two people who romanticize the shit out of it. It's nice to see the other side of it, where snow sounds nice and fluffy, like it's portrayed in the movies but the only way I can see it as is the demonic mixture of slush and ice that I have to drive through at six thirty in the morning Monday through Friday. It's sweet how they're getting excited over it though.

Once we're done with the tree we step back and examine our handy work. I never really thought that I would be admiring a giant purple Christmas tree but it looks damn good.

"We'll put up the star on the top when your father comes home," my mom says softly.

"Sounds like a plan," I say. The three of us admire our handiwork a little more in silence. Then my mom moves away.

"Well, I should get started on dinner. How does spaghetti sound?" my mom says, moving towards the kitchen.

"Great," Marco and I say simultaneously. When my mom leaves the room I turn to Marco. 

"So what do you want to do? We can browse Netflix and find some shitty movies to watch or we can shoot zombies or aliens or something on one of the consoles," I say.

"Let's play some video games," Marco says.

"You're already more interesting than Connie and Sasha. They usually just go to the kitchen and eat and then we laze around the house for the rest of the day," I say. 

"We all know that you love it and they're still your best friends," Marco says. "What about Armin?"

"He's usually quiet, but he does whatever the rest of us do," I say. "I consider him one of my better friends but I don't think that's the case for him. He prefers to hang out with Eren and Mikasa, who you'll meet tomorrow, so he doesn't come around too often."

"It seems like you're close with him based off of what I've seen at lunch," Marco says.

I shrug. "I know I'm not his best friend though, Eren is. But that's alright. I still have Connie and Sasha who are my best friends... and I have you now."

"I'm one of your best friends?" Marco asks. I nod sheepishly and he smiles. "I think you're my best friend too, Jean." 

Something about that statement bugs me. Over this warm feeling that's in my chest- I don't know, it feels like I want... more? I shouldn't though, we're already so close. What more could there possibly be?

"Come on, you wanted to play video games right?" I ask. Marco takes a seat on the couch and I kneel in front of my vast video game collection. "What do you want to play? I have pretty much everything so just pick something at random."

Marco makes a humming noise as he thinks. "Surprise me."

"Alright," I say and consult what I have in front of me. I don't spend too long over it. I know Marco's not picky so I just pick up the first title that I know can support two players in split screen. "Borderlands good with you?"

"Yeah," Marco says and scoots up to the edge of the couch. I pop the disk into the console and walk over to the couch so I can hand Marco a controller.

When we really get into the game it's nothing but us dicking around and not at all doing what we're supposed to. Typical multiplayer stuff.

My mom calls us in for dinner about an hour after we had set up the tree. It's a nice dinner where we sit around the table and just chat. Eventually the conversation comes around to Christmas.

"What is your family's plans for Christmas?" my mom asks Marco.

"Nothing special really," Marco says. "My grandparents and a few aunts and uncles are coming down from Shiganshina." 

"Is that where you used to live before you came here to Trost?" my mom asks. Marco nods but doesn't elaborate. I've asked him where he went to school before and where he lived before but he never completely answered the questions. There's something he's not completely comfortable sharing yet.

"I've heard of it a little bit before," my mom says. "It's a small town isn't it? How was it over there?"

"I think the reason why Marco moved here is obvious ma," I say. Did Marco tense a little bit when I said that? "It was small and boring."

Marco laughs. "I can't argue with that."

"See?" I say to my mom. "I don't think anyone can stand small town life. I think it's pretty romanticized isn't it?" 

"From what your father has said, yes I assume it is," my mom says.

"Did your dad live in a small town too?" Marco asks. 

"No, he just travels a lot," I say. I'm ashamed to admit that I look for those signs on Marco's face, even if it's just out of habit. I look for that pity that so many people have, for various different reasons when they realize that my dad is away from home a lot. But the only thing I see is genuine interest and curiosity.

"Really? Does he take you guys with him?" Marco says.

"No, he's a travelling businessman so it's just for business," I explain.

"Although we do get a lot of postcards and pictures of him in different places. He makes sure to keep in contact with us," my mom says. She sounds slightly defensive. I'm sitting next to her and I grab her hand and squeeze. She calms down, my touch telling her that Marco isn't one to judge. 

"Have you traveled anywhere, Marco?" I ask, trying to take the edge off of my mom's defensiveness.

"No," Marco says. "I've only gone here and that was only a three hour drive."

"We've gone to a few places that aren't that far from here, although it's hard to find times other than the summer where Jean and his father are both okay to travel without school or work getting in the way. I also recently started school, which complicates things further," my mom says.

"Oh, yeah, Jean did bring up that you're going to college. How is it?" Marco asks.

"Well, it keeps me busy," my mom says. "It's night classes though, so I can be at home for Jean-bo after school."

"Why did you decide to go to college? Are you studying for anything in particular?" Marco asks curiously.

"Oh, no," my mom says. "I never completed college when I was young so I thought it would be a nice time to try and get my degree."

The rest of the night passes quickly. My mom and Marco talk enthusiastically about my mom's classes. Dinner is awesome, I can see that my mom is taking a great liking to Marco. I feel myself... liking him more too.

When dinner is finished Marco and I play a few more video games. When we get tired of that we just watch Sharknado and a really shitty zombie movie called State of Emergency. After that we turn in for the night, both of us getting tired.  

* * *

When I wake up I find that it's well into the day. Marco and I ended up going to bed at two, so it's no surprise when I blearily look at the clock and find it to be half past noon. I rub my eyes and stretch a little. 

"Morning," Marco says.

"Mornin'," I reply, and yawn.

"Well technically it's the afternoon," Marco says. "And you still look like you're not completely awake yet." 

"Cut me some slack, I opened my eyes, like, a minute ago. Besides, this is my standard wake-up time," I inform him. "And how long have _you_ been awake?"

"An hour I guess," Marco says with a shrug. 

My mom knocks on the door. "Lunch is ready now, boys." 

"Coming," I say over the door. My mom's footsteps retreat down the hallway and eventually down the stairs. "Ready for some lunch?"

"Yep," Marco says and stands up from his little nest on the floor. My mom brought out a mattress for him to sleep on along with a few blankets and pillows. Marco had taken them graciously and set them up near the side of my bed. Now he's standing over them and waiting for me to get awake enough to crawl out of bed and into the kitchen.

I pretty much roll off of my mattress, bringing half of the duvet with me before I struggle to stand up. Even once that is achieved my foot is still tangled in that godforsaken blanket and I have to kick at it before it lets me escape. Marco chuckles at my struggle the entire time. I glare at him but he only hides his smile behind a hand. 

Finally we make it downstairs where my mom had set up a lunch of hot dogs and french fries.

I take a seat and immediately go for the ketchup, squirting more than is entirely necessary over my hot dog and fries. I pass it over to Marco who makes a neat line of the ketchup over his hot dog and a little pool of it over next to his fries before passing the condiment over to my mom. I next use the mustard and get it freaking everywhere on the dog before relinquishing it to Marco, who then gives it to my mom once he's done. There's a nice order here, I like it.

"You missed some good food this morning," my mom says to me.

"You didn't wake up either of us," I point out.

"Yes, I did," my mom says. "Marco was the only one who woke up. You just snorted and rolled over."

"Wait, when was this?" I ask.

"About nine this morning," my mom says.

I look at Marco. That freckled saint. "You said that you woke up, like, an hour ago," I say. 

"He just didn't want you feeling bad about your horrible sleeping habits," my mom says.

Marco laughs. "You might have gotten jealous of all the waffles that we had this morning. Your mom's a great cook."

"Marco, dear, it was basically all you who made the waffles," my mom says.

"I can't take all the credit," Marco says politely.

I just stare at them for a moment before I speak. "How are you guys so nice? I mean, besides your relentless teasing of me you're both, like, Jesus reincarnated or something."

"It's part of our charm," Marco says to me.

"Please don't smirk again," I say. I don't think my heterosexuality could take that.

We laugh together and my mom smiles, despite not getting the joke.

The rest of lunch is spent in companionable silence as we eat. We don't really feel the need to talk, just being around each other with a cheerful atmosphere is enough for us. It always seems kind of peaceful when Marco's around.

When lunch is over we all help with the dishes. I want something sweet to eat but apparently nothing is in the house. I'm pretty sure my mom has a chocolate stash somewhere but I don't bring it up. I decide that Marco and I are going to take a little trip to the gas station that's just outside of our neighborhood. We  _could_ walk there but, come on, it's cold as fuck outside and I'm not going to be able to live through fifteen minutes of chilly weather, go into a heated building for five minutes and then be thrusted out into fucking Hoth again. Nope, I'm going to take my heated car.

Marco's already dressed so he waits for me in the living room while I hastily put on some jeans and shrug on a light jacket over the shirt that I slept in.

When I finally come downstairs my mom and Marco are admiring the Christmas tree again and my mom is talking animatedly about how we put the star up every year with my dad. It's always me and him working together to put it up. When I was little he would lift me up, Lion King style, so I could reach the top of the tree and even when I grew tall enough to do it myself my dad still insisted that we put it up together. 

He hasn't missed a single Christmas with us. He's busy a lot but he always manages to get time off for the holidays. He'll try as hard as he can to get time off between Christmas and New Years. There have been a couple of times where he could only stay for Christmas but that's okay, I still got to spend a lot of time with him. I still got to see his face light up when I wrote him a shitty poem when I was younger, or bought him something that he didn't need when I got older as Christmas presents. When I have to clean his office I still see them decorating the walls and shelves amd when I help him pack I sometimes see them carefully packed in his suitcase.

"Ready to go, Marco?" I ask. 

"Yeah," he says and turns to join me at the foot of the steps.

"Be careful, boys," my mom says, waving her hand.

"We're only going to the gas station, ma," I say. "We'll be back in, like, five minutes."

I wave goodbye to her and Marco and I head out into the tundra to get to my car. The first thing I do after I start the engine is blast the heat. Marco laughs.

"You really hate winter don't you, Jean," Marco says. It's a statement not a question but I reply anyway.

"I don't understand how you and my mom don't. Even my dad likes it," I grumble, pulling away from the house and onto the street.

"It's because of the snow," Marco says, looking out the window fondly. "Don't you think it's beautiful?"  

"I think I've already said this, but no," I say. "I mean, I used to like it. But then I started driving and it didn't seem as nice anymore."

Marco hums, "I think you're forgetting that your parents and I drive through this too."

"Yeah, but you guys are the happy, optimistic people who see beauty in everything. I'm that person who wears black all the time and hisses at sunlight," I mumble.

"You can appreciate the snow and sunlight as well, Jean," Marco says. I pull into a parking space, having finally arrived at the gas station.

"You're such a cornball," I say with a smile. "Come on, let's go get something sweet."

We hustle into the gas station and browse the small isles until we find things that we like. I brought more money than was entirely necessary so we each get an armful of good stuff before checking out. Most of it is candy but we still end up with enough chips to make Sasha envious.

I end up carrying two bags filled with completely unnecessary junk food to my car once our little spree is over. Marco felt bad for letting me pay for everything and insisted on paying for half. I really didn't mind but he was so insistent he wouldn't let me get away with it. He said it was also a repayment for me getting him Subway on the first day we met. I've really gotta tell him one day that I don't mind looking out for him, even if it's something as trivial as getting him a candy bar. He doesn't need to repay me for those kind of things.

We drive home in relative silence. Marco is looking out the window and he looks kind of like a puppy at how much he's enjoying the snow draped over the branches of trees and blanketing the lawns of people's homes. It's... cute.

I pull into the driveway of my house soon after we leave the gas station. I cut the engine and then we're retreating into the house.

Once I get in I shout into the house, "Hey, ma!"

"Yes?" my mom questions from upstairs. She comes around at the top of the staircase a moment later. "Do you two need something?"

"Nope, but I think you'll be happy to hear-" I say, pulling something out of one of the bags from the gas station. "-I got you two dark chocolate Hershey's bars."

My mom makes a happy gasping noise and comes down the stairs. I hand her over the chocolate and hug her. I kiss the top of her head. I wonder when she got shorter than me?

"Thank you, Jean-bo," my mom says. She takes the chocolates from me and goes back upstairs. "I'll be upstairs finding Christmas presents and studying. Just holler if you need me."

"Alright," I say as my mom retreats upstairs.

"You two are so cute together," Marco observes. "I really love how apparent it is that you two love each other."

I smile, at him and say softer than I intend, "You really are a cornball."

Marco smiles back at me. Oh hey look, that staring thing is happening again. I find that I like when this happens... but I feel like there is more to these looks than I think.

"So," I say slowly, letting my eyes move away from his. "What do you want to do now?"

"I don't know," Marco says. "It's your house."

"But you're the guest," I say.

"But it's your house," Marco says.

"Yes, but you're the guest," I counter. Marco and I laugh and I grab his wrist and pull him towards the couch. I set our spoils from our little gas station raid on the coffee table.

"How about we watch some more movies and stuff our faces with junk food?" I suggest.

"Sounds like a plan," Marco says.

I open up Netflix on the TV and we browse the titles for a little while.

"Oh, let's watch The Nightmare Before Christmas," Marco says.

"I've never seen that one before honestly," I say.

"What?" Marco says in disbelief. "I thought that everyone's seen it at least once."

"Not me," I say. "It always looked weird to me so I didn't watch it."

"You've seen Sharknado but somehow The Nightmare Before Christmas is too weird for you?" Marco teases. "Come on, try watching it."

"Alright," I say doubtfully. I begin the movie and Marco sits beside me happily. He really is adorable. I end up staring at him through the entire opening, watching him hum with the music. He glances over at me in that expectant look that you give people when they're watching one of your favorite movies for the first time. But when he catches me staring he looks a little startled and blushes.

"W-what?" Marco asks. He looks away.

"Nothing," I say. "You look like you're really enjoying this though. How many times have you seen this exactly?"

"Remember I have two siblings who are eight years old," Marco says. "I watch these kinds of movies all the time. I had to suffer through the Frozen phase that my little sister went through, so I've learned to appreciate the better movies."

"Your siblings are seriously adorable," I say.

"Yeah," Marco agrees happily before turning his attention back to the movie. I watch it as well this time. I actually find myself enjoying it. It got a little weird at some parts, but over all I liked it, especially the music, although I think that's because Marco always hummed along with them and sang the chorus. When it was finally over Marco looked over to me excitedly.

"So what did you think?" Marco asks me.

"You know," I say. "I actually kind of liked it."

"See, it's good right?" Marco says and smiles.

"Yeah," I say. "It was good."

We smile at each other before my mom comes down the stairs. The noise snaps us back to the present and we both look away shyly.

"How are you two doing?" my mom asks. "Do you need anything?"

"No, we're good," I say.

My mom sees Netflix open. "Oh, what are you going to watch?"

"We're not sure," Marco replies.

"Marco forced me into watching The Nightmare Before Christmas," I inform her. "Now that that's over we're stuck in Netflix limbo."

"I did not  _force_  you to watch it," Marco defends himself. "Besides, you liked it."

I laugh. "Look, that's beside the point. The problem right now is that we don't know what to watch next and we have-" I pause to look at the clock on the wall. "-three hours to kill before we have to go to the party."

"I heard something like Attack on Titan is becoming pretty popular," my mom says. "People are saying that it's the new Pokemon."

"I highly doubt that," I say. "Besides, isn't it supposed to be, like, really depressing?"

"Yeah, let's not," Marco agrees. 

"Oh," I say. "How about Breaking Bad? That's always a good one."

We agree on it and my mom nods in approval before going to the kitchen for whatever it is she wanted before she got sidetracked by us. I start up the first episode. Marco and I end up being able to watch three and a half episodes before we have to start getting ready. We're probably going to end up being half an hour late at this point but, you know, being late is fashionable now for some reason. 

I put on a new shirt and so does Marco. It doesn't take too long for us to get ready. I know it's only going to be a small gathering of friends so I don't try too hard to look nice. I assure Marco that he doesn't need to worry about it either. He looks amazing anyways, but I keep that thought to myself.

We head out and my mom insists on hugs from both Marco and I before we head off. When our goodbyes are done Marco and I head off. We talk cheerily on the way to Connie's house. It was mostly me telling Marco about my weird ass friends and warning him about some of the things that he should look out for. Like Eren being an asshole on occasion and Annie seeming intimidating sometimes. I also mention that Bertholdt can seem really nervous all the time. Marco laughs at how I seem to view my friends.

I pull up in front of Connie's house after a while and kill the engine. I text him that we're there and a moment later Connie is standing at his doorway, waving at us.

"Hey there!" Connie says cheerfully. "You both are late as hell but it's fine Reiner and Bert haven't shown up either. But everyone else's here."

Marco and I step inside after Connie. He immediately goes to the living room where Eren and Armin are currently playing Guitar Hero. Armin is also currently kicking Eren's ass. Annie and Mikasa are sitting together on the floor and Ymir and Christa are cuddling on the couch. Sasha is nowhere to be seen. 

Ymir regards us casually before speaking. "You're new." 

"Yeah, this is Marco, everyone," I say. A chorus of hellos come from everyone who hasn't met Marco yet, even Eren who throws one over his shoulder distractedly. Christa untangles herself from her girlfriend's arms and comes over to us.

"Hi, I'm Christa," she introduces herself. "What brings you here?"

"He's my date," I tease, wrapping my arm around his waist. It doesn't come off as joking though when I realize what I'm doing and my face heats up. I let go of him quickly and risk a glance in his direction. His face is red too, but at least he's playing it off better than I did.

"I became friends with Jean-" Marco says but is interrupted.

"And Sasha and Connie," Sasha says as she bounds from the kitchen and tackles Marco into a hug.

Christa laughs and Ymir gets off of the couch, apparently missing Christa because she moves and hugs Christa from behind.

"This is Ymir," I say to Marco. Sasha detaches herself from Marco and becomes distracted by the chips and dip Connie sets on the coffee table. 

"Hey," Ymir greets him.

"What were you saying, Marco?" Christa asks.

"Oh, I just met Jean, Connie, Sasha and Armin at school. I moved here from Shiganshina and they invited me into their friend group not even a week ago," Marco says. "We've kind of been hanging out ever since." 

The room gets quieter as the song on Guitar Hero ends. I can hear Eren insisting on another game but Armin doesn't want to go.

"Hey, horse-face," Eren says. I studiously ignore him. Instead I greet the girls sitting on the floor.

"Hey, Mikasa, Annie," Mikasa waves and Annie nods before turning her attention back to Mikasa and beginning a conversation. 

"They're not all that social," Christa says to Marco.

"I can be social when I want to be," Annie says. "Hey there Marco, nice to meet ya. I'm Annie. See?" Mikasa stays quiet. She only regards Marco before offering him a small smile.

"Jean, would you play Guitar Hero with Eren for Christ's sake he isn't shutting up," Ymir says. I've been ignoring his calls for me, since he refuses to call me anything else but horse-face apparently.

"Fine," I grumble. "Oi, Eren if I win, drop that dumbass nickname."

"You only hate it 'cause it's true," Eren says. I roll my eyes at him but join in the game, leaving Marco to talk with the girls. He'll be fine. Ymir, Mikasa and Annie might be a little rough around the edges but they're not all that bad, besides there's also Christa to cushion things.

Eren and I end up tying in the game and I challenge him again. By the time the second song starts Reiner and Bert make their way into the living room as well.

"We brought beer," Reiner announces.

"Thank god for your older brother," Connie says and jumps off of the couch to collect the drinks. I can hear him look around in the bag. "This isn't enough for all of us to get wasted."

"There's only so much I can get my brother to do," Reiner grumbles.

"Whatever, it's cool we've got beer," Connie says and there's a little cheer that goes through the living room. "Oh right, guys this is Marco."

There are friendly greetings exchanged before Sasha drags Marco back into the conversation that she and Annie seem to be having regarding Annie's "boring" taste in food. 

I tune out the rest of the living room and start really concentrating on the song in front of me. It's a miracle that I didn't screw up when I was paying more attention to the conversation around me than the game. Of course, when I put all my effort into hitting the right chords I fuck up... a lot more than Eren does. 

"Hah!" Eren says once the final scores are displayed. "I kicked your ass, Kirschtein."

"Shut up, Yeager," I snap.

"Okay, whatever. I still get to call you horse-face and there is beer to be had, why are we even arguing right now?" Eren says and moves to the kitchen where the beer is on display. Eren frowns when he picks up a bottle. "This is cheap stuff."

"Christ, Eren, it's not even legal for us to drink. You're lucky we even have something," Reiner says.

"Yeah, like two bottles per person," Eren grumbles.

"Shut up, Eren," a chorus of voices say. Eren grumbles some more but opens a can for himself.

"Toss me one," I say to Eren. He grabs another one and throws it over the counter that separates the kitchen from the living room and over the couch. I catch it mid air.

"Who else wants one?" Eren asks. Ymir and Annie raise their hands. Eren collects two cans before making his way to the living room and handing them over. Reiner, Bert, Mikasa, Sasha and Connie already have one in their hands.

"Do you want one?" I ask Marco.

"No, I'm good," Marco says.

"I doubt Marco's even interested in alcohol," Ymir says. "From what I've gathered so far, he's a damn saint." 

"I'm not as good as you all seem to think I am," Marco says.

"Yeah you are," I say. "You're great, Marco."

He smiles at me and I smile back. I think I forget that the rest of the room is there for a moment as I continue staring at Marco. When I finally break eye contact, Reiner is giving me a look, a knowing look. But what is there to know? We were just... looking at each other.

"I think it's just because they're all assholes and didn't know any nice people before you came along," Armin says. Eren ruffles his hair.

"Of course we did. We had you Armin," Eren says, managing to turn Armin's hair into a birds nest.

"You're too sweet, Eren, really," Armin says dryly and combs his hair back into place with his fingers.

"We also have Bert," Reiner says and kisses his boyfriend's hand. Bert blushes but gives Reiner a grin.

"And Christa," Ymir says lovingly and tugs Christa further into her side.

"You're all so sickeningly in love," Annie grumbles. "Even Connie and Sasha."

Everyone turns their attention to the two who have moved to a corner of the living and are currently making out.

"Who would you want to date, Annie?" Mikasa asks.

"Oh, I don't know," Annie says. She looks at Reiner and Bert who seem to have dropped from the conversation and, as fucking corny as it sounds, have become lost in each other's eyes. She points at them. "Someone who looks at me like that."

Reiner leans forward and whispers something to Bert before kissing him on the nose. Bert smiles and laughs softly. Damn, I think I want that too. I can hardly blame Annie.

"How long have you all been dating?" Marco asks. Reiner and Bert are still enthralled in one another so Ymir and Christa answer.

"It'll be four years next month," Ymir says and laces her fingers with Christa's.

"You already know Connie and Sash have been dating for a year right?" I ask and Marco nods. I nod in the direction of Reiner and Bert. "These two have only been dating for, like, a month."

Marco nods and hums thoughtfully.

"Are you seeing anyone?" Christa asks Marco.

"Oh, no," Marco says. "No, I'm single."

"Oh really?" Annie says. "Well, geesh, anyone who can get their hands on you first wins at life I think."

Marco chuckles at that. Although it doesn't sound real like when he genuinely thinks something is amusing. It sounds... doubtful. I hope Marco doesn't think that he's unworthy of being someone's boyfriend. He really is, they'd be lucky to have him. Marco shouldn't be feeling insecure about himself.

For the rest of the night we chat about everything we possibly can. Parents, siblings,school is brought up for a brief while but it's mostly everyone stating how fucked they are this semester. Then we move onto Christmas and we ponder doing a secret Santa thing but nothing's established. The two couples who had abandoned the rest of us for some kisses join the conversation again somewhere around the Christmas discussion. All of us are staying here, we don't have relatives that live in some far off place that we need to visit. It's like this every year. It's great though because we can get together on Christmas Eve and hang out like a second family, before we have to go and be with our blood-related family on Christmas.

"You have to come to our Christmas party this year, Marco," I said. He agreed and we moved on. But I had felt really, really happy to hear that. This annual party that we have is like our family get together. I love it to pieces and having Marco there will make it even better.

After that we talk about Christmas a little more and move onto the secret Santa thing. I think it would be a cool thing to do but we move on before anything concrete is made up for some more Guitar Hero.

I coax Marco into playing a game with me. He royally kicks my ass and I am left to sit on the couch in shame as we do this King of the Guitar Hero type thing. Where the person who wins goes up against the next contestant. Marco lasts for a good while actually before Connie comes up and beats him. Although I think Marco lets him win. He returns to the couch, sitting right next to me.

When we tire of Guitar Hero, Connie just puts on some TV. But it's ignored for more conversation. Most of the beer is gone now. I limited myself to one. Marco, Armin and Christa had nothing. Unsurprisingly, Ymir and Eren had four. Surprisingly, Mikasa had three, she usually never drinks that much. Everyone else had their designated two.

I have a small buzz going and the party has been going strong for three and a half hours when Mikasa taps my shoulder.

"Come with me for a second," she says.

"Okay," I say, a little confused, but I follow her anyway. Armin gives me a questioning look. Being the one who knew about my crush on Mikasa the longest his curiosity makes sense. I just shrug and give him a look that says I don't know what this is about either and, no, I'm not expecting  _that._ He just nods and turns his attention back to our heated debate about whether Scarlett Johansson or Chris Evans has the better ass.

I follow Mikasa into the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. It's relatively hidden from the living room and I raise my eyebrow at her. She just shakes her head, grabs the front of my shirt and drags me down until our lips clash. My eyes widen in surprise before I let them slip closed and step forward. She leans into my chest. She's not as soft as other girls, I can feel her large muscles, hidden under smooth skin. Her lips are soft too. I wonder... I wonder if Marco's are soft like this. What would it be like to kiss him? What would he taste like? Would he be as hard as Mikasa? They're both pretty damn muscular. Would his arms be as corded? What would it feel like to have them wrapped around me? Would his skin be smooth? Would his touch be gentle? How about his tongue? Would it be exploratory and hesitant or would it be demanding and hungry? I don't know these things but I- I want to. I want to know what it would be like to kiss Marco.

Fuck.

I pull away from Mikasa hastily and hold her at arms length.

"Thanks," she says after a moment.

"What for?" I ask and laugh awkwardly.

"For helping me figure stuff out," Mikasa states.

I bite my lip and look towards the ground. "I should thank you too then, I guess."

Mikasa hums thoughtfully. "Is it Marco?" 

I close my eyes and sigh, before dropping my hands off her shoulders. 

"Too soon?" she asks. I nod.  

"We should get back to the others," I say. She nods in agreement and we both emerge from the hallway. We both get curious looks but neither of us acknowledge them. Mikasa takes a seat next to Annie. She looks pretty close to her, closer than she was before anyways. I take a seat next to Marco again and rejoin the conversation. Marco informs me that Scarlett Johansson's ass ultimately won.

It's easy, forgetting about what happened in the hallway, although when Marco brushes against me on accident everything I thought when Mikasa kissed me fills my head. So I shrink away from his touch the first few times. But as the night goes on it becomes easier to pretend that I'm not thinking of kissing my best friend of six days. 

Ymir and Christa are the first ones to leave. After that Armin, Eren and Mikasa. Marco and I decide to leave shortly after them. It's just us and two couples who can't seem to stop touching each other, so we decide to head out. 

I have to drop off Marco though. I don't want to.

On the drive to Marco's house I let him speak. He loves all of my friends. No surprise, my friends are amazing, albeit weird and annoying at times.

The drive ends too quickly for my tastes. We had brought Marco's things with us because we knew that he was going home right after the party. So before I know it we're pulled up in front of Marco's driveway. He reaches into the back seat and retrieves his things.

He smiles at me for... I don't know. A second? An eternity? Then he turns towards the door. I reach out to him. I don't mean to, it just happens but I pull my arm back hastily before he notices.

"Night, Marco," I say.

Marco leans down so he can look me in the eyes from outside of my car. "Goodnight, Jean."

He shuts the door gently. I watch him go up the stairs. Most of the house is dark, except for the are that I assume would be the living room. I don't think his siblings lasted long enough to greet their brother at the door. I can still see him hugged by a woman before the door closes. That must be his mother.

I sigh and hit my forehead against the steering wheel. I think... I think it's time I admit that I have more than just platonic feelings for Marco.  

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean angsts over figuring out his feelings for Marco. Marco reveals something about himself that Jean didn't know about before. Searching for help his feeligns Jean calls Reiner, who gives him advice which he mulls over for a short while before making up his mind to do something that might just change his and Marco's relationship, for better or for worse.

I'm not entirely sure how I ignored this... crush that I have. Thinking back on it, all of these thoughts that I had before haven't changed much. The only thing that's changed is that I'm aware of them. And I'm aware of why they're there. Actually the reason those thoughts are there is sitting next to me right now, in all his freckled glory.

"Jean~" Sasha calls out to me.

"Hm?" I ask, snapping out of my daydream. At least this time I wasn't blatantly  _staring_ at Marco. I''m still not entirely sure how I can look him in the eye and smile or stare at him unashamedly. Not after... the incident on Monday. It's a long and embarrassing story of a case of morning wood and lazy hip rolling and then Marco's face. I'm not going to go into details but I think the statement speaks for itself.

"What's been with you lately?" Connie asks, a hint of concern lacing his words.

"Yeah, you've been a little weird ever since the party," Sasha says.

"Did something happen?" Marco asks.

I roll my eyes. "There's no need for an interrogation, I'm _fine_."

Sasha gasps. "Is it your dad? Is he not going to be able to come back for Christmas?"

"He's coming," I say. "He always has before. This year won't be any different."

"So what is it then?" Connie asks.

"It's nothing," I say. "Promise." 

"We just don't want our Jean-bo to be sad or stressed out on the first day of winter break," Sasha says.

"Please don't call me Jean-bo. I barely allow my  _mom_ to call me that," I say. 

"But it's a cute nickname," Marco says.

"See?" Sasha says. "I'm not the only one who likes the nickname your mom made for you." 

"Are you really okay?" Marco asks me quietly while Connie and Sasha turn their attention to the pages we're supposed to skim for today. Hanji is amazing and gave us our final yesterday so we're just reading a few pages from the textbook and copying stuff down so it looks like we're doing something if someone from administration comes in.

"Don't worry, I'm good," I reassure him. He smiles and turns to his paper. I probably stare at him longer than is socially acceptable before I get to work too. 

I've been staring at him a lot, I've noticed. 

I discovered over the weekend, when I tossed and turned around in my bed because I wasn't able to sleep, that I probably had a crush on him way back when we first met. Well, maybe not a crush but I would be lying to myself if I said that I wasn't attracted to him back then. I still think he has a nice ass by the way and look forward to seeing those jeans make a come back. Yeah, I remember that. I'm still a little weirded out by admitting that. I don't think it's because he's a guy and I'm a guy though, I think it's just that he's my  _friend_ and he's probably  _straight._ At least, he's never said anything otherwise. Even if he was gay who's to say that he would like me back? How do people even go about doing that? I can't even fathom how other people find people that like them and who they like too. That's never happened to me before. Well, I've kissed people before, that requires some of that doesn't it? But honestly I don't think they counted because there was no real substance to those relationships. It was just a quick make-out session and then we never spoke to each other again. But a real relationship with hand holding and nose boops and kisses whenever we want, however we want, I've never experienced that before. Is it bad of me to want to experience that with Marco, one of my best friends?

"Jean?" Marco asks. I look up from my paper. "Your paper is still blank."

I look down. I've had twenty minutes to copy things down and I still haven't done anything productive. "Technically it isn't blank. There's a picture of the circulatory system, see?"

"You know what I mean, Jean," Marco says. I do. I also got that underlying statement. My mind's elsewhere, he can see that. Sasha and Connie can see it, dammit. I was never all that good at hiding things. 

"You worry about me too much, ma," I grumble. 

"I don't think it's without foundation,  _dear,"_ Marco says. It sounds joking, but I know he's serious. 

"Oh, pet names," Sasha says.

"It is," I say, ignoring Sasha. "Maybe I'm tired?"

"For the past three days though?" Marco asks gently.

"Well, it is the three days before we're released for break, everyone is getting a little restless and lazy," I say.

Marco purses his lips before he smiles at me. "Okay, but you can talk to me, you know that right?" 

"Yeah, I know," I say. I don't know about this time though, Marco. I give him a reassuring grin. His hand is resting right there in between us. If I could just reach out and squeeze it, hold his hand and kiss him on the cheek and wipe that worried look off of his face. I don't care that we're in the middle of class, I would still do it. I don't want him needlessly worrying. For the rest of the hour, I make an effort to get everything done. It does take my mind off of things for a while.

Class passes by slowly. It's not that I don't enjoy it like I usually do. Marco and my two best friends are here how could I not enjoy it? Plus there's the added bonus of having mostly a free day. No, it's just the struggle of not drifting off again. I really was daydreaming a lot. Geez, I need to get a grip. Even when I was lusting over Mikasa it wasn't this bad.

The bell rings and finally releases us from class. Marco is still looking slightly worried about me so I roll my eyes at him.

"I'm alright, Marco, please don't worry about me," I say in a slightly pleading voice.

"I think you've forgotten that I'm an older brother. It's pretty much second nature for me to worry," Marco says.

"What do Ace and Adelina do to make you worry? They sound like angels," I state.

"They are," Marco confirms. "I'm just a big 'worry wart' according to my brother and sister."

"You really are," I agree. He and I laugh and I throw my backpack over my shoulder.

"See you later, Jean," Marco says, taking my usual queue to leave as time to say goodbye for a few hours.

I bite my lip and stare at the table. 

"Bye guys," Connie and Sasha say as they exit the classroom. I give them a distracted wave.

Fuck it. "I'll walk you to class," I say. Why was that even a hard or relatively risky decision to make? Marco only looks slightly surprised but he smiles at me anyways and nods.

"Okay," he says.

"I've never seen your classroom before," I say. Lame excuse. Why did I even have to make an excuse in the first place? Come on, Kirschtein he can practically  _see_ that you just want to be near him for a little longer. There are a lot of classrooms of his that I haven't seen, so why does this one have to be different? Maybe because when I have a crush I become a clingy bastard.

"Follow me, then," Marco says. "I actually remember the way aren't you proud of me?"

"So proud," I say and follow him out of the classroom. He makes a right instead of a left in the hallway. We don't even have to push against the flow of other students because we're the very last classroom in this hallway. It doesn't even take us ten seconds to reach the bottom of the stairwell. No one's here either. Marco ascends the stairs first and I follow, taking an appreciative eye full of his backside. 

He waits for me on the little platform between the two little sets of stairs that carry us to the top floor. When I reach the top I realize that if this was a shitty romance movie this would be where I confess to him. This abandoned stairwell who hardly anyone uses would be great for this. I could, if I wanted to I could tell him, right now. But I know I won't. I don't say anything at all as we go up the rest of the stairs.

We walk about half way down the hallway before Marco stops in front of a door. The hallways are starting to fill up again as the passing period goes on.

"This is it," Marco announces.

"That was a blissfully easy walk," I say. "I'm just as envious of your trip right now as I was when we first met. Probably more, actually."

Marco scoots to the side when someone he recognizes from his class comes into the hallway and makes their way into the classroom. Marco grabs my wrist and takes me to the expanse of blank wall that separates one classroom door from another. I lean against the wall and he copies my stance. I try to ignore the fact that if I took a small step forward and played with his fingers we would look like a couple. Yeah, I end up failing and fully acknowledge that. Damn, why do I have to do this to myself?

"You know, in my near four years of being in this hell hole I've never had a walk that easy. I didn't even have a top locker until this year," I complain.

Marco winces in sympathy. "You were always on the bottom?"

Get your mind out of the damn gutter, Jean. "It sucked. You know there were a few times where people dropped their shit on me?" Marco laughs and I just glare at him. "That really isn't funny, Marco. It hurt. A lot."

"You've got a hard head," Marco says, still laughing.

"Because my brain had to make extra defenses after that," I say and touch my head with a sniffle. "I was traumatized."

"Well, you can drop _your_ stuff on people now," Marco suggests.

"I would much rather make out with someone in front of a few lockers. That's my real grudge this year. Last year I would have happily dropped my stuff on someone's head, particularly the person who threw their brick of a binder on me and didn't even bother to apologize. But this year I want people to feel the pain of having an awkward 'excuse me' that I have to go through everyday," I say. 

"You're a bitter person aren't you, Jean?" Marco asks with a chuckle.

"Damn straight." Hah. Straight.

The warning bell rings. No, I don't want to leave yet, dammit.

"You should get going before you're late," Marco says. Is it just me or is there a hint of disappointment in his voice. It's probably me, honestly.

"Yeah, I'll see you at lunch," I say and wave goodbye. At least I try to pull off my raised hand as a wave instead of a subconscious attempt at holding his cheek. That's happened a few times over the course of these four days. I reach out to him, only to realize what I'm doing before I recoil. Did I do this with Mikasa? I can't even remember, it was so long ago.

I wait for him to disappear into his classroom before I head off. It's only four hours before I can talk to him again, that's one hour that I have to go through four times. That isn't too bad.

It turns out that I couldn't be more wrong. Holy shit, I didn't think it was possible for school to crawl by any slower than it did. The combination of struggling through the rest of the day before we're off for break  _and_ the anticipation of seeing Marco nearly kill me. But then the last bell is ringing and I'm set free.

I hustle down the hallways and into the lunch room where I find Sasha and Connie waiting for me in the usual spot. I weave my way over to them.

"I'm not going to drive today," Connie states by way of greeting. "It's been snowing since Sunday, I'm  _not_ going out there."

"We're having lunch here then?" I ask.

"Yup," Connie confirms.

"At least they have mozzarella sticks today," Sasha says. That is truly the only edible food that's available here. The spicy chicken sandwiches aren't too bad either.

"Hi," Armin greets us as he joins or group. I see Marco entering the room over his shoulder. I'm about to wave to him but stop myself when he gets distracted by a girl tapping on his shoulder.

He turns to her with a polite smile and I see him greet her. I vaguely hear someone call my name but ignore it and continue watching the scene in front of me.

The girl is shuffling her feet and her face is entirely red. She keeps biting her lip and looks really nervous. She's- she's asking him out isn't she? 

" _Jean,"_ Sasha says in an exasperated tone.

I hold up a finger. "H-hang on I think someone's asking Marco out."

I try to sound light hearted and curious but even to my ears it comes out forced. 

Marco is now blushing too and rubbing the back of his neck. They talk a little more before the girl nods and scampers off. She doesn't look disappointed or dejected at all. Did he... say yes?

He comes to us, still red-faced and slightly flustered.

"Did we just witness Marco Bodt getting a girlfriend?" Connie prods once Marco joins us.

"What?" Marco practically squeaks. "N-no."

"Come on, you don't have to lie to us," Sasha says.

"I-I'm not," Marco says.

Sasha narrows her eyes at him, scrutinizing his every move, looking for something that might give away his lie.

"Leave him alone guys, we might have just misread that," I say. Am I really trying to get them off of Marco's back or am I just trying to reassure myself?"

"Come on, let's get food, I'm hungry," Armin whines.

"I'm hungry too, let's go," Sasha says and drags Connie to the lunch lines. Armin smiles at Marco and Marco gives us both appreciative looks. When Marco looks away he's gnawing at his bottom lip, looking like he's having an internal battle with himself about something. 

We get into the lunch line right behind Connie and Sasha and wait patiently for some food.

"What are you guys going to do for your first day out of prison?" Connie asks.

"I'm going out with Eren and Mikasa," Armin answers.

"Eat. Sleep. Play video games," I say.

"Same," Connie and Sasha say simultaneously. Geez, they're really meant to be aren't they? 

"What about you, Marco?" I ask. Please don't say you're going on a date. Please don't.

"My brother and sister wanted to make ginger bread houses," Marco says. 

"We tried that at one of our little Christmas Eve parties," Armin says. "It ended up a damn mess. Connie, Sasha and Eren got frosting everywhere."

"Not to mention the fucking house collapsed after our pathetic attempt at getting the roof on," I add.

"And all of it tasted like shit," Connie says. "Except for the frosting."

"You guys are kind of making me wonder how well this is going to turn out," Marco says. 

"By the way, how do you think your date's going to turn out?" Sasha asks.

"Sash, seriously, if he doesn't want to talk about it don't make him," I say. Is it bad of me to hope that there's nothing to talk about? I would be fucking happy for Marco if he started dating someone and  _he_ became happy too, but, as selfish as this sounds, I would be even happier if that person could be me. 

"No-uh," Marco says. "You're talking about that girl earlier right?"

"Yeah," Armin answers.

"She  _did_ ask me out," Marco says and rubs the back of his neck. "But I turned her down."

"Oh, well why didn't you just say so?" Sasha asks. I feel like slapping my hand against my forehead.

"He pretty much  _did_ ," I say. 

"Hang on, can I- I mean- I  _need_ to tell you guys why though," Marco says.

"Shoot," Connie says. "We're listening."

"S-sorry," Marco says. "I've kind of been avoiding this. I just got- nervous."

Marco stops talking. "You don't have to tell us right now, you know," I say.

"I- I know. But I think if I wait any longer then I'll just end up not saying anything at all," Marco says and takes a deep breath. "I-I turned her down because-uh- well, I'm gay."

There's a beat of silence before I smile at him.

"I get why you were nervous," I say. "But seriously, dude, we're still your friends, this won't change anything."

Marco sags with obvious relief and gives us a hesitant smile. Then the gravity of what he said hits me and I can't help a fairly large spark of hope igniting. That's one of my worries out of the way, but there's still no guarantee _at all_ that he would be attracted to me. Hell, I don't know if  _I_ would be attracted to me. So there's really no reason for Marco to like me that way is there?

"Wait, do you have a boyfriend?" Sasha asks curiously. I tense. Fuck, I didn't think of that. He told us earlier that he wasn't seeing anyone but what if he was lying? Wouldn't he be nervous that we'd ask questions or something? Queue the gnawing anxiety again.

"No," Marco says. "Didn't you guys ask me if I was dating anyone last week?" Is it bad of me to feel relieved? Shouldn't I be hoping that he's happy being with someone instead of silently hoping that he's single so I have a slightly higher chance of dating him?

"Just making sure. Something could have happened over the past week," Sasha points out.

"Nothing happened," Marco says with a chuckle. I can see that he's glad we're being so casual about it.

Our conversation is interrupted so that we can get food in the lunch line and then we're off again and sitting at our usual place.

When we sit Marco is next to me and I can feel that he's still a little tense. I bump his shoulder and smile at him reassuringly. He breaths out and nods, getting my silent message. I don't know what the fuck comes over me but for some reason I decide that what would be a great thing to do is grab his hand and squeeze. It's quick and I move my hand away from his after, not even a second, but I still feel the heat in my face rise. What the hell, Jean? Why would you do that? Why?

I glance over to Marco for a moment and see that his face is probably as red as mine. Fuck. Shit. I hate myself.

"Is there a lack of oxygen over there or something?" Connie asks. "You both are really red."

"Nope. Just fine," I say. I hope that my voice isn't as nearly as high as I think it is.

Armin looks between the two of us and nods to himself. Fuck my life. He's smart and I really hope that he didn't nod for the reasons that I think he nodded. I'm really hoping that for once he'll be clueless and my crush will go completely over his head.

"What do you guys think we should do for the Christmas party?" Sasha asks. She and Connie are always the planners for this party. They make stuff happen and confer with whoever is inviting everyone over. 

"Not make ginger bread houses," Armin and I say.

"Can we have it at your house, Jean?" Sasha asks. "We haven't had it at your place yet."

So far we've had the party at Connie's house first, then Reiner's, and last year it was at Eren and Mikasa's place.

"Yeah, okay," I say. "I could just send my mom and dad on date night or something."

"Awesome," Connie says. "You don't have to send your parents away though, they're awesome."

"Do you want to bring beer?" I ask.

"Oh, yeah, okay, send them away," Connie says. I laugh and we continue making plans. 

The party will be at my house. Apparently we  _are_ going to have a secret Santa thing this time around. According to Sasha we never did it before because we were all too poor to actually get something decent. Jokes on her, I'll still get her a family sized bag of potato chips if I end up being her secret Santa. It'll be on Christmas Eve, as always, and will probably start at five o' clock. Connie entertains the idea of dressing as Santa and barging into the house by falling down the chimney but that idea is immediately shot down, mostly on account of me not actually  _having_ a chimney. Most of lunch is us spending time trying to plan this thing and getting distracted by recounting stories of other parties. Like the ugly sweater themed one we had at Reiner's house. Bertholdt had the ugliest thing, I don't even know  _where_ he got it from but it definitely won that competition.

When the bell for the end of the hour sounds we dump our empty trays in the trash and head off. Sasha and Connie go their usual way and Marco follows them this time around, having to go to a computer lab instead of his usual classroom today.

"Hey, Jean?" Armin says, after a few moments of walking together silently.

"Yeah?" I ask. I become nervous, wondering if he had actually picked up on what was going on between Marco and I.

"I think you should ask him out," Armin says. I already know who he's talking about and I stop in my tracks. I hate to be that asshole who stops in the middle of the hallway with no explanation but I'm so goddamn _surprised._ He just brought it up so casually and dropped it in there. He was so accepting, not even questioning it.

"I-uh- what are you-" I start pathetically.

"Hold on," Armin cuts me off. "It's pretty obvious that you're infatuated with him. Pretty much everyone suspects something, especially after that little scene where you two stared into each other's eyes at the party on Saturday."

I drag him over to the side of the hallway, where we won't be in the way and where we can talk a little more privately.

"I- I don't know. It's just- I'm not sure he would like me, like _that,"_ I mutter. "Just because he told us he was gay doesn't mean that he would start liking me."

Armin sighs. "I thought that he liked you before he even told us that he was gay if it's any consolation."

It is. It really is and it gets that stupid hope rising in my chest again. I have to wrestle it down so that it's fucking intensity doesn't bury me alive. Because what if Armin's wrong? What if he's misinterpreting a platonic fondness that Marco holds for me as something more?  No, I can't afford to let this get my hopes up. I can't.

"Thank you, Armin," I say quietly. "But I'm going to think this over some more."

Armin nods. "I figured. But I'm here to talk, yeah? And I'm pretty sure Reiner and Bert or Ymir and Christa would help you too."

"Yeah, okay," I say. "See ya later."

"Bye," Armin says and shoots off into the crowd. I breathe out and brush my fingers through my hair. Well, Armin knows now. Maybe I should take his advice and ask some friends who are more experienced in the gay relationship thing. Or maybe just the relationship thing in general. I could go to Connie and Sasha too. 

I trail to class, gnawing on my nails the entire time. Wondering if maybe, just maybe, he would say yes.

* * *

 I only have one class between my lunch hour and my final hour so when the bell finally rang I was more than ready to get the fuck out of there. I immediately go to the library, situating myself in my usual corner.  

After Friday I started waiting for Marco to get out of class so I could take him home. Monday I had to finish that stupid test and I ended up waiting for him to get out of class, since I was staying later than usual anyways, at least, that was my excuse. He got embarrassed and tried to convince me that it was okay to leave early, since he knew that's what I usually did. I eventually won that argument so ever since I've been driving him from school. The problem with that though was that I really had no means to entertain myself. On Monday I kind of just hung around and played around on my phone after I finished the test.

Yesterday I brought my sketchbook and took another stab at drawing my parent's faces. I ended up getting frustrated again and drew the Christmas tree in my living room. Today I brought my sketchbook again.

I chew on my pencil for a moment before starting to sketch. I start with the shape of his head and go on from there. Making the lines and angles of his face, it slowly starts to come together. Then I go onto his hair and finally his eyes. I try to translate that kindness  and warmth that always seems to flow from Marco and then I draw his lips, trying ,and pretty much failing, not to imagine how it would feel kissing them. I move onto his freckles and surprise myself with how familiar I am with where they are on his face. Guess I haven't been as successful as I originally thought when it comes to keeping the staring to a minimum.

The entire drawing is just of Marco's face, his neck and a little bit of his collarbone and shoulders, but I try so hard to get it perfect that the bell rings and startles me out of my concentration. I look at  my work and nearly grimace. It doesn't do Marco justice. He's much more beautiful than I could ever draw him. I'm not sure anyone can draw him as beautiful as he actually is, because he's just Marco. He's a wonderful person who's nigh impossible to replicate, he's his own self and... that thought could have been dangerous. I've only known him for a week. I'll keep that word stored, for a different time.

I hop up and hustle to the cafeteria. I'm the first one there as usual and I take the time to shove my sketchbook into my backpack. I didn't even realize, I was in such a rush to get here that I left it clutched in my hands while I made my way through the crowd.

Marco makes his way into the cafeteria and over to me as I sling my backpack over my shoulders again. I wave at him.

"Hey, Jean," he greets me.

"Hey there, Freckles," I _chirp._ I fucking  _chirp._ I need to get a grip.

"You're in an awfully good mood," Marco says.

"Well, we  _do_ have nearly three weeks off of school, how could I  _not_  be happy," I say, trying to brush off my cheer as something that isn't spurred on by the fact that Marco is here. _  
_

"Can't argue with that," Marco agrees.

"You ready to go?" I ask. I don't really want him to be. I mean, if he was ready to go our time together would be seriously cut down. But common courtesy I guess, and his brother and sister are probably just waiting for their big brother to come home and make gingerbread houses with them, I can't hog him for myself. And I mean, who's to say that he  _wants_ to hang out with me. I kind of forced my driving him home upon him.

"Not really," Marco says. Does his face turn red? I don't know, because he turns his head quickly and looks out the window. "That parking lot makes me nervous sometimes."

"Yeah, can't blame you there," I concur. "Do you just want to hang around here then?"

"Yes," Marco replies quickly. Well, he must really hate that parking lot. 

I plop myself in the seat that I was hovering over. Marco sits on the opposite side of me. We both look out of the windows and I keep glancing over at him. I'm so horrible, why can't I  _stop looking at him?_  

I don't know what the hell comes over me, as per usual, but I decide to do some prodding. "Do you have a crush on anyone, Marco?"

Marco splutters. "W-why?"

I shrug, desperately trying to come up with something in the second that that buys me. I probably should have thought this out more.

"You only came out to us this afternoon, so I was wondering if maybe there was a little someone that you might have been hiding," I say nonchalantly. I'm sorry Marco, I'm only doing this for my own personal gain.

When no answer comes from Marco I flick my eyes back to him, only to be greeted with a very embarrassed looking friend, whose eyes flick around the table top. Holy shit, he does have a crush on someone. I try to hold the impending doom I feel at bay.

"No, I don't," Marco says. He looks me right in the eyes when he says it. I don't know what is on his expression. I can't even tell if he's lying. He looks away from me. I can tell now that he's distraught.

I sigh. "I'm sorry. Did I take that too far?" Marco doesn't say anything, only stares at the table in front of him. "Listen, man, if boy talk makes you uncomfortable we don't have to. But you should know that I have absolutely no problem with it. So if that's what you're worrying about, stop."

Marco chuckles. "You're taking the fact that I'm gay so well."

"Marco," I say. "Have you  _seen_ Ymir and Christa? Or Reiner and Bert? If I'm friends with them, clearly, I have no problem with gay people."

I'm a little gay myself, Marco. Would the technical term be bisexual? Or pansexual? Hang on, I'm going to stop before I stress myself out. 

Marco takes a moment before he speaks. "Thank you, Jean."

"What are you thanking me for?" I ask.

"Just for being there. I know we've barely known each other for a week, but I really needed someone and then you were there. So, just, thanks," Marco says.

I don't really know what to say. Just the way he spoke, he sounded like he used to be so  _lonely._

"I should thank you too," I say sincerely. But then I try to lighten the mood a little bit. "I probably would have been stuck with a lame group of friends if you hadn't shown up."

"What are you talking about? Your friends are great," Marco says with a chuckle.

"They are great. You just came along and made it perfect," I say. I smile at him and for once I don't regret my words. Not a single bit. Even though they obviously held something more than  _like_ in them, I'm glad I said them, because the fucking smile that lights up Marco's face is perfect.

We fall into a comfortable silence after that. Marco gazes out of the window. I wonder if he's admiring the snow on the ground right now? I certainly can't. It's annoying and hard to drive in. But maybe one day I can look at it like Marco does and appreciate it. Wouldn't that be nice?

"Do you think we should brave the parking lot?" Marco asks after a few minutes.

I observe outside and sigh internally. It's not as busy anymore, I guess we should get going.

"Yeah," I say regretfully. "Come on, Freckles, let's get you home." 

Marco smiles and follows me out the door. We hustle to the car. It's cold outside so we don't waste anymore time than necessary getting there. 

We hop in and I navigate my way out of the parking lot in silence, trying to concentrate on what I'm doing.

"Marco?" I ask hesitantly when I pull up at the first red light we encounter.

"Yes, Jean?" Marco says. 

"I-uh- I seriously meant what I said back there. In the cafeteria," I say awkwardly.

"Me too, Jean," Marco says. It takes everything I have not to reach over to his lap where his hands rest and not hold one of them. Why are crushes so hard? And why is it a thousand times worse when they're your friend?

We reach Marco's house too quickly. We didn't speak the entire drive. We just enjoyed being together for a little while, with the scenery flashing by us.

Marco gets out of the car slowly.

"Bye, Jean," he says.

"Hey wait, Marco?" I say.

"Yeah?" he asks.

"I need some help with getting my mom a Christmas present. Do you want to come with?" I ask.

He smiles and nods. "Yeah, I need to get some presents for my brother and sister too," he says.

"Is Friday good with you?" I ask. He nods again. "Sounds like a date then."

I grin and wave. "See ya later."

He smiles and leaves the car at that. I can see him being bombarded by his siblings in the doorway. Cute.

On my way home I basically spend the entire time chewing on my bottom lip and my nails, wondering who I should call about this. When I pull into my driveway I've mostly decided. I'll call Reiner, or Bert. They know what it's like to think that you're straight, end up liking a guy and then asking them out. I need to talk to someone about this and I would prefer to have it be before Friday.

I enter the house quietly. I know my mom had finals last night so I don't want to disturb her if she's sleeping. I creep up the stairs and into my room where I throw my backpack in a corner. I dig my phone out of my pocket and scroll through my contacts and get Reiner on the phone. I throw myself into my desk chair and wait for him to answer.

He picks up after the fourth ring.

"Hey," he greets me.

"Hello," I say.

"What's up?" he asks.

"Um, nothing. I just have a question for you," I say. 

"Okay, what is it?"

"So, hypothetically, if you found out that you liked a guy, and were a guy yourself, um what would you do about this crush? I mean, _after_ the whole angsting and denial phase where you tell yourself that there's nothing other than platonic, no homo, bro feelings."

"... You do realize that after saying something like 'so, hypothetically' you're putting a neon, flashing sign on your forehead saying that what you're about to say next is all about you." 

"Shut up and answer the question," I mutter.

Reiner sighs. "Well, what I did with Bert was some serious flirting and gauging how he responded." 

"He obviously responded well to the flirting. Um- so how did you get up the courage to ask him out?" I ask.

Reiner laughs. "I didn't. I was nervous as all hell but I asked him anyways because I knew if I didn't it would take another few months of psyching myself out before I was able to even _consider_ doing it again."

"So you basically just blurted out _will you go out with me?"_ I ask.

"Pretty much," Reiner answers. I chew on my nails again. "I'm pretty sure Marco would say yes if you asked him."

"Are you and Armin in cahoots?" I ask.

"First of all, who the hell uses 'cahoots' anymore? Second of all, you two make bedroom eyes at each other _all the time._ It's almost sickening," Reiner says. 

"Is it that obvious?" I groan.

"Yep," Reiner confirms.

"That's just fucking great," I say. "What if he's noticed and is just too polite to turn me down?"

"I don't think he's going to turn you down," Reiner says.

"How do you know that?" I ask bitterly.

"I've only ever seen him at the party and occasionally in the hallways. But the way he looks at you pretty much says everything there is to know about how he feels about you," Reiner says.

I rub at one of my temples. "I think I'm going to ask him out on Friday." 

"Good!" Reiner says. "Get this damn teen drama away."

"Couldn't agree with you more," I say.

"Hey," Reiner says. "Don't get discouraged. You'll be fine."

"Thanks," I say gratefully.

"See you later," Reiner says. "I better see you making out with Marco at the Christmas party. If you're not I'll know you wimped out." 

"Geez, you're really confident he'll say yes aren't you?" I mutter with a chuckle.

"Bedroom eyes," Reiner reminds me.

I snort. "Okay. Thanks, really. I'll see you on Christmas Eve."

"Bye," Reiner says.

I pull the phone away from my ear and press the end call button. I sigh and throw my phone on my bed and twirl around in my chair. I can't help but wonder how he would look when I ask him out. My imagination comes up with everything from overwhelming horror to happy tears in his eyes. I decide to stick with something in the middle. A soft smile and a whispered "yes." 

I cling onto that image as I silently vow that I will ask Marco Bodt out on a date this Friday. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I have no idea how many of you actually keep up with this, but if you do I just wanted to let you know that I made this a series! The second part of this I'll upload alongside this one. It'll just be little stories that didn't fit along in the plot line here. Maybe some things in Jean's past like Bert's ugly Christmas sweater or the cook- off that he and his friends took part in in his kitchen. Probably some recent stuff too like the "Monday morning wood incident" and other things that I have planned for the near future. You won't miss anything important if you don't read it but, if you want to, go check it out!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Marco do a little Christmas shopping for their families. Jean finally works up the nerve to ask Marco a very important question. And some romance ensues (finally)!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a really shitty job with describing the necklace that Jean got for his mom. So [here ](http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/3b/8a/65/3b8a65fb686bd82e898e134e0fbcfeb0.jpg) is the picture of it. It's pretty dang important that you know what it looks like cause it's the celtic symbol for maternal/eternal love, although Jean didn't know that when he bought it.

Friday takes its sweet ass time to get here. Except when I think about what I had promised myself I was going to do on Friday, then time thought it would be a brilliant idea to skip the rest of the day, while I lay in bed and agonized over what I should say.

Now Friday is officially here and I'm exhausted. I was up all night from a child-like excitement that prevented me from getting any type of sleep- I was also nervous as all hell, but I'll just try and forget about that part. Now I'm here, sitting on the couch, waiting for it to reach three o' clock, the time I'm supposed to pick up Marco.

I try to distract myself with watching TV but I just end up staring at the screen, my mind elsewhere, particularly Marco's face. It's noon now, I think I've just been staring at the screen for a few hours now.

I must look like some type of zombie because my mom comes over and gives me some hot chocolate.

"Are you alright, Jean-bo?" she asks as she places the mug into my hands.

I wrap my fingers around the warm cup and feel comforted by the feeling of it. "I'm good. Why?"

"You've just been looking distant lately," my mom says and drags her hand through my hair in that maternal way that she does so often.

I become nervous that she might find out about my crush on Marco. I've never really spoken to my parents about what they thought of gay people. The few times that it has been brought up they were supportive of it but I still don't think I'm ready to tell them that I'm interested in a guy.  

"I'm just worried about what I'm going to get you for Christmas," I say and smile. Not a complete lie, I actually only have a faint idea of what to get her. It's not like I have a lot to spend. I only have a hundred dollars. It's what I got over the summer when I was actually working. I've been saving it just for this holiday. I've only been giving my parents cheap gifts for the past few years, I want to get them something more this time around. 

I'll have Marco there with me, he'll probably be really helpful.

"You know that whatever it is I'll always love you, right?" my mom asks. 

"I know, ma," I say, feeling a little embarrassed over her cheesy mom talk.

"Well, do you want some lunch?" my mom asks, heading off to the kitchen. As if in answer my stomach growls and I realize I haven't eaten all day.

"I'm practically wasting away," I say and jump up to follow her into the kitchen.

We have a light lunch made up of sandwiches and chips. I bump hips with my mom occasionally as we make our sandwiches together. The first time I did it, when I asked for the mayo she nearly jumped out of her skin, but then she started bumping me back and by the time my sandwich was ready to be eaten I was barely standing up right, from both laughter and the force of my mom's hip bumps. That woman's got some power in her small body.

We don't bother moving to the dining room, my mom perches on the edge of a counter and I lean against the island. We both eat our food there and talk. We're mostly done with our meal when I realize that I had been talking about Marco the entire time. I cram the rest of my sandwich into my mouth when I realize that, just for something to take my mind off of the flush of my cheeks. 

"Marco's a great friend to you, isn't he?" my mom asks softly.

"Y-yeah," I say, downing the rest of my water.

My mom nods and smiles at me. I feel like it's a knowing smile, but what is there for her to know? Am I doing a shitty job of covering up my crush? Is it really that obvious? She couldn't possibly know though could she? She was never there when I gazed at him like some love-struck school girl, or when I said something stupidly flirtatious... Wait. There was that incident when we were setting up the Christmas tree. I still cringe with embarrassment every time I think about it.

"Are you sure you're alright? You're looking sick, dear," my mom says.

"Cringe attack," I explain truthfully.

"Ah," my mom says and nods in understanding. "I still have a lot of those."

I grimace. "So are you saying I'm going to be dealing with this even when I'm an adult?"

"Oh yes," my mom says. "Mine come in when I remember the hair I had in high school." 

My mom scrunches her face up and I laugh.

We end up making another round of sandwiches for ourselves and we talk and laugh some more. I've always felt close to my mom, but lately I feel like we're even closer. It's just something about how easily we can laugh together and how easily we can tell each other things. It's almost enough to drive me to tell her about Marco a few times. But I don't. I don't think I'm completely ready, there's still a part of me that's terrified that my parents  _won't_ be accepting and it makes me feel guilty that I feel that way but there it is. So I keep my mouth shut about the topic. When our lunch is done and our chatter dying out I glance towards the clock and realize that I have an hour left before I have to leave. I feel that restlessness stir up again and I fidget from one foot to the other.

I even take the dishes from my mom and clean them. It doesn't kill a lot of time. Five minutes at the most. 

Maybe I should shower. Should I? Do I smell bad? After that should I pick out one of my nicer outfits? What am I thinking, we're not going on a date, as much as I would like us to. Will we ever even go on a date? Oh fuck. I've pushed it to the back of my mind but the chance that Marco could say no is a possibility and to me, right now, it is a _huge_ possibility.

"I'm going out in a little while so I'm going to go get ready," I announce to my mom after I put away the bag of chips.

"Are you going out with Marco?" my mom asks.

"Yep," I reply and shoot off to my room. First I stand in front of my closet, looking at everything that I have to wear. I throw pretty much everything on the floor, not sure if this would work, or if that would work. Eventually I have to sift through the pile of clothing at my feet after pretty much emptying out my closet.

Would this be too casual? Should I wear something better? This button- up? No, I look like a tool. Should I just wear something that I would normally wear? What  _do_ I normally wear? Does this color look stupid on me? Why am I even worrying about that? I wear this thing all the time, should I go for something that I don't typically wear? Oh, so  _that's_ why I don't wear this a lot.

I settle on a pair of my favorite skinny jeans eventually, but the tops haven't gotten through much progress. After kneeling in front of the clothes for a little longer I just sigh and trudge to the bathroom. A shower might clear my head.

The warm water spraying over my head does help a little, I feel a little more awake when I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around myself.

I swipe away the mist on the mirror and consider doing something with my hair. I pull it up and try to spike it while it's still wet, just to see what it looks like and immediately regret my decision. I end up running my fingers through it in a desperate attempt to get it back to lying flat. I think I'll just leave my hair.

When I get back to my room I quickly dry myself with the towel and do the skinny-jean dance, trying to get my pants on. I go through my shirts again and finally give up before shutting my eyes and blindly reaching for one. I'm tired of stressing out over a piece of cotton, if I need to, this is how I'll decide on a shirt damn it.

I end up pulling out a plain white one. It's kind of boring so I throw a red zipper-hoodie over it and call it good. No more agonizing over clothes.

I check my phone and I still have twenty minutes. Is it too early to go now? It takes ten minutes to get to Marco's place from here so would it be okay for me to show up a little early? I pace around my room, gnawing at my nails.

No, I should wait ten minutes, I can do that right?

I go to the kitchen. My mom's not here anymore and she's not in the living room either. She must be studying now.

I look at the clock. Okay, it's two forty. 

I go over to the fridge, open it, stare at it's contents for a little while before shutting it and going to the cabinet. I stare at that for a while too before I close it, deciding that I need a drink. Then I go to the other cabinet, where the glasses are and take one out. I go to the sink and turn it on, letting the water fill up the glass. I take a few gulps from it like it's the alcohol I think I need right now. I glance towards the clock.

Two forty-one.

Fuck, I can't do this. I'm going to go crazy.

"Jean,  _what_ are you doing?" my mom calls from upstairs. I hear her footsteps over the hard wood hallway upstairs.

"Just getting some water," I say innocently.

"Why exactly do you have to bang around the kitchen in order to do that?" my mom questions, now descending the stairs. 

"Sorry," I say and dump the rest of the water and quickly clean the glass before setting it on the dish-rack.

"Jean," my mother says in a tone that makes me finally face her. "Why do you look so antsy today?"

I sigh and shake my head. "You don't have to worry about it."

She gives me that mom look. "Jean Kirschtein, it is my _job_ to worry about you." 

"It's really nothing, ma. I'm just worrying about something. Probably a little more than I should be," I say.

"What are you worrying about, honey? Can I help?" she asks.

I smile at her. "I don't think you can this time around, ma. Unless you can make a one hundred percent guarantee about something."

"Well nothing's a hundred percent, Jean-bo," she says.

"I know," I say. "Doesn't that scare you sometimes?"

"Sometimes, yes," my mom says. "But I think that fear of not having something work out is worth it when everything  _does_ work out."

"How do you know if something will work out?" I ask. 

"Oh, you don't," she states. "But life would be pretty boring if everything worked out the way you wanted it to."

"What if you _really_ want this thing to happen? And what if it doesn't? What if that thing not happening can wreck you?" I ask. This might be a little bit of a hyperbole. I would be depressed if Marco didn't want to go out with me, but I could make it again. I could find new romance and meet new people. But the thing about that is that I really _don't want to._    

"It would be unfortunate," she says solemnly. "But if that were to happen you'll have to pick up the broken pieces and learn how to sew them back together as you walk away."

I nod. I hope I don't have to walk away. I hope I don't have to pick up anything that breaks. 

* * *

**To Freckles: get ur butt out here im out front now**

 I made it here with no panic attacks, thank god. Now I'm sitting in Freedom, waiting for Marco to get out here. I'm a little early. I left shortly after the conversation I had with my mom and came here, worrying about broken things and walking away. 

I wait for a couple of minutes before Marco emerges from his house and closes the door behind him quickly, like something might escape if he doesn't. He doesn't look any different from the way he does normally but I still gasp when I see him, because he's beautiful and he's Marco and he's _there,_  about to hang out with the likes of me. He makes his way to the car before hopping in and smiling at me.

"Hello, Jean," Marco says.

"Hi, Marco," I say softly.

"Sorry, it kind of took me a while to get out the door, I was being bombarded by a pair of twins," Marco says. I chuckle and set the car into drive and head off to our destination. 

I laugh. "They really keep you on your toes." 

"They really do," Marco says. "And I even have my parents there most of the time too." 

I chuckle a little more at that and continue driving. 

"Where do you wanna go?" I ask, driving in a random direction.

"It's supposed to be nice today, we could go to the outdoor mall," Marco suggests. 

I smile. "Sounds good, Freckles."

We continue the drive, but we don't spend much of it talking. When we do speak it's not small talk, but it's nothing of importance either. My nervousness dissipates and I wonder how I had let myself become a jumble of nerves in the first place. This is just Marco. I can talk to him easily, although maybe my nerves will make their appearance again when I ask Marco on a date. If I ever get up the courage to actually do it.

I take us to the mall at a leisurely pace, which would normally annoy me since this pace is being set because of the slow-ass drivers around me but here, with Marco, it's okay. 

When we draw closer to our destination I ask, "So what places were you thinking of stopping by?"

"I was thinking something like the toy section at Wal-mart or Target," Marco says with a laugh. "Ace likes Lego's and Adelina wants a new bike so I'm the recon for my parents to see how inexpensive they can get."

"Are you going to get anything for your parents?" I ask.

"Yeah, but I don't really know what they would like. They never ask for anything, so it makes gift shopping hard for them."

I nod in understanding. I want to get my dad something but he never asks for anything other than the shitty drawings I did as a kid. When I was a freshman I didn't even get him anything other than a card. I was angry with him for leaving so much, so things were kind of strained between us. What brought me back to actually appreciating that he was around, no matter how little, was when he missed a flight to a plane that crashed shortly after taking off. After that I kept asking him what he wanted for presents and he would just shake his head and smile and say something sappy like "I only want to be with you and your mother."

So whenever holidays roll around I give him gifts that really don't have sentimental value. Last year I got him a freaking suitcase. He uses it all the time, but still, I want to get him something with real value.

"Do you want to shop for your siblings first?" I ask as I pull into the massive parking lot on one side of the mall.

"Let's see what catches our eyes first," Marco says.

"Sounds like a plan," I say, pulling into a parking space where the number of cars starts tapering off.

We clamber out of the car and head towards the first set of shops together. It's mostly clothing stores and I don't think I could buy anything my mom would like, or my dad so I just let Marco browse the windows for something that his family would like.

I spend a lot of time watching him and then flicking my gaze to a window in fake interest when I think that Marco has noticed my staring. This is really becoming a bad habit, I need to kick it. But I doubt very highly that that will happen any time soon.

We end up popping into a store to look at a shirt that Marco thinks his sister would like. It's plain white but it says on the front "the difference between pizza and your opinion is that I asked for pizza." I laugh when Marco says that that is definitely something his younger sister would say. 

After that we browse the stores a little more and head off to a different section of the mall. We don't see all that many people milling around when we walk about, it's actually quite relaxing just being with Marco and talking and window shopping and feeling the crunch of the remaining snow beneath our shoes. It's nice and I'm not sure I want to end.

There are a few times where I wonder if  _this_ would be the right moment to ask Marco. Comfortable silences after I tell a lame joke and he laughs. There was one time where I stared at Marco for a long time and he stared back, it wasn't awkward at all to me, it just felt like something I would like to do with him everyday if I could, minus the excessive blushing once we broke eye contact. It made me wonder if he held the same feelings for me as I do for him and the question almost slipped out of my mouth. But then I remembered the word  _no_ and I decided that it would be best to wait. Probably before I dropped him off at home, like when I'm right there in front of his house. That way there won't be an awkward drive home or anything. But it's hard to hold back because, while I'm still nervous as hell whenever I think about it, there's a little excitement left over from when I entertained the thoughts about if he liked me back.

"Do you have anything in mind for your parents' presents?" Marco questions as we exit another store. We've been going in and out of some when Marco thinks he finds something that his family would like. He would mutter some things like "my aunt would like this" before going into a store only to put the thing back down and sigh dejectedly before smiling at me and telling me that we should move on. I worry about him sometimes. 

"Not really," I say. "I was thinking that maybe I could get my mom a nice necklace but I have no idea what to get my dad." 

"Well what kind of stuff does your dad like?" Marco asks.

"Well, he likes traveling, especially with my mom and I but I can't exactly afford three plane tickets to the Bahamas," I say. "And when I asked what he wanted for Christmas over the phone the other day he just said 'I want to be with your mother and you.'"

"Then don't you think he would be happy with anything you have to offer him?" Marco asks. "I don't think he would at all be disappointed in you if you just gave him a card with a cliche but true statement in it." 

I chew on my fingernails a little bit before saying. "I feel like that's a cop-out though. Like, a card doesn't really have any  _real_ value if you get down to it."

"I think everything can have value if that's what you give it," Marco says. "You told me once that your dad keeps all of the drawings that you give him. It was after he left again, right? You said they weren't at all good but your dad still treasures them. I think the card is the same. Maybe it doesn't _look_ valuable but the if the thoughts you put into it are meaningful, actually I think it would mean more to him than anything you could get with money."

I smile. "Wisdom from Marco Bodt, I think I'll take that as my Christmas present."

"What _do_ you want for Christmas, Jean?" Marco asks.

I suddenly get the urge to sing Mariah Carey's  _All I Want for Christmas is You_ but just shrug instead. "I don't really want anything tangible this year."

Marco hums thoughtfully. "I suddenly know how you feel about not being sure about presents."

I laugh before the meaning behind his words sinks in. "Oh, Marco, you don't have to get anything for me, seriously."

"But I want to," Marco says sincerely.

I sigh. "I'll get back to you after I think about that for a little longer."

"Okay," Marco says cheerfully.

We walk a little more through the stores and I end up buying my dad a scratch map so he can mark all of the places he's been to. It's really cool. All of the continents have a gold metallic foil on it that he can scratch away once he visits a place and there are cool facts underneath the map about some of the countries and the geography. I think my dad would like it.

Marco's mostly done with his shopping. He found some nice Lego's for Ace at an obscure toy store. He's planning on getting his dad a nice watch and his mom some earrings because she likes earrings. He and his parents are going to buy Adelina's new bike together so all he has to do is look at prices.

"Let's stop by Kohl's," I suggest. "It's right next to Target, at least as close to Target as a store here can get."

Can't believe they put Target on the fucking outskirts of the mall. We're going to have to traverse through their parking lot and into the huge-ass store all the way to the back where the sporting goods are. At least it'll prolong my time with Marco.

We go into the clothing store and go in a random direction in the hopes of finding the jewelry section. After a bit of wandering we finally find it and browse the options. I basically just follow Marco around, completely out of my element. I have horrible fashion taste so I don't know what looks good and what my mother wouldn't be caught dead in.

"What do you think of these?" Marco asks and holds up dark blue tear-drop earrings.

"Not bad, Freckles," I say. "I think your mom would like them."

"Alright," Marco says and turns away from the rack of earrings, having decided. "Did you find something?"

"Um, no," I say and chew my nails. "I don't mean to sound like the uncomfortable boyfriend but I don't know anything about this stuff."

"Maybe you should just get her something simple," Marco suggests. "No extravagance just a cute little necklace that she can wear everyday."

"Right," I say, still not completely sure of my judgement. We move back to the racks with the necklaces on them and I look through them slowly. Cute and casual. Cute and casual. 

The number of Frozen necklaces is a little alarming. But through that I find a necklace that looks kind of pretty.

I hold it up for Marco's inspection. "What do you think of this one?"

"That's a nice one, Jean," Marco says.

"Yeah?" I say and bring it around so I can look at it again. "Okay, I'll get this one for her."

The necklace looks like a heart and an oval and then another heart and another oval woven together vertically to make this symbol. It looks nice I think.

Marco and I check out our gifts and we head back outside. We then make our way to Target and talk about past Christmases that we've had. Marco says that he usually spent it with his family. Both of his grandparents on both of his parents' sides are alive and his mom has a couple of sisters who are both married and one of them has a five year old boy and another boy who's seven. He says that they all usually come over to Marco's house for the holidays and the house is full of the smell of good food and the sound of the kids hollering and screaming and everyone else chatting away. He says while none of his family is all that wealthy there's still a long line of presents for everyone. It sounds great.

I tell him that my grandparents on my mom's side come over for dinner, but both of my parents don't have any siblings so that's pretty much it. My dad doesn't speak to his parents so they don't come over. And even though our gathering is small there's still no shortage of laughter or talk or hot chocolate. There's always gallons of hot chocolate when we get together in the winter.

Marco recounts stories of when Adelina serenaded all of them with some Christmas carols. She even dragged quiet Ace into it. Marco said they both won't be growing up to be musicians.

The walk back through the mall and to the parking lot where Freedom is is _a lot_ shorter than I thought it would be and shortly after Marco's story is done and our giggles die away we're loading all of our presents into the trunk of the car.

We're silent on the way back to Marco's house. The closer we get to his house the more I'm just content with being in Marco's presence.

I pull up in front of his house and pop open the trunk once I put the car into park.

"Thanks, Jean," Marco says.

"No problem, Marco," I say and smile at him. He smiles back and climbs out of the car. I breathe out deeply and follow him. I promised myself something, damn it and it's time to deliver. This fear will be worth it if everything works out. The fact that there is a chance that this will work out is enough for me to get out of the car and follow Marco to the trunk. He has everything that he bought gathered in his arms and I close the trunk for him.

"H-hey, Marco," I say. "Is it cool if I ask you something?"

"Of course," Marco says and shifts the bags in his hands so they're more comfortable to carry.

I resist the urge to chew at my nails and instead play with the hem of my sleeves. "So- um- I guess you'll need a little background on this."

"Jean, is everything alright?" Marco asks, concern evident in his voice.

"Yeah, everything's fine I just- I'm just a little nervous," I say and lift one of my hands to chew at my nails before I realize what I'm doing. I lower my hand and continue playing with the sleeves. I close my eyes and breathe. Now's the time to grow a pair. "I like you, Marco." I peek at Marco and he's blinking, looking like he needs a little more information so I breathe out again and kick at the snow at my feet. "I was just wondering if maybe- maybe you would like to- uh- do the thing? The handholding, kissing thing? The- the- uh- date thing?" Well, I totally fucked that up.

Marco opens his mouth and closes it before saying, "You're asking me on a date?"

His wide eyes make me nervous as hell that I'm about to be rejected so I back track. "I-if that's okay with you. I mean, I would get it if you said no. Who would want to go out with me anyways? I just complain and watch Netflix all the-"

"Yes," Marco cuts me off. Now it's my turn to blink and open and close my mouth like a fish.

"Y-yes?" I ask, just making sure I heard him right.

"I'll go on a date with you, Jean," Marco says. It's not even that cold out today yet Marco's cheeks are bright red. I'm pretty sure mine are too.

"Oh, well that's great," I say. I don't know what else to say. I feel like Plankton from Spongebob, not having anything further planned because, well,  _I didn't think I'd get this far._  

Marco smiles at me. "I have to wrap these tonight, but I'm free tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? I'm good with tomorrow, what time?" I ask, still nervously scraping the snow around with my foot and rubbing the hem of my sleeve between my fingers.

"One?" Marco suggests. I thank all the gods above that it's early because the anticipation would have eaten me alive if it was any later.

"Okay," I say and offer a nervous, but genuine grin.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, Jean," Marco says.

"Yeah, see you soon, Marco," I say.

Marco turns as if to leave for his house before he bites his lip and flicks his eyes to me. He takes a couple of steps towards me quickly and... kisses my cheek before he shoots off to his house. When he gets to the door and unlocks it he looks over his shoulder and smiles at me before waving. I wave back, it's a small wave and my hand doesn't reach above my chest but Marco still smiles wider at it before disappearing inside.

I go back into my car and head home in a daze. Is it legal to drive like this? I wonder if I look like a drunk driver.

But I'm still able to come home without incident. I barely remember to get my parents' presents out of my car before I float inside. When I make it inside my mom greets me cheerfully.

"Hey, Jean-bo, how was your time out?" she asks.

"It was _great_ ," I say before sagging into the couch and setting the bag of presents on the coffee table.

My mom finally looks up from her book and blinks. "Well, with _that_ dopey smile it would be hard to believe otherwise."

I feel my face heat up and scratch at my cheek. "I just got you a Christmas present that I think you'll like is all." 

"Oh?" my mom says. Yeah, she doesn't believe me at all.

"I'll tell you about it later, ma. I promise," I say. I'm not ready yet. Not yet. After our first date, maybe. 

I grab the presents and smile at her one more time before retreating to my room. I wrap them there, just for something to do for the rest of the night. I forget about eating until my mom calls me down for dinner.

It's a nice meal and once again whenever I speak it's all about Marco. I really do try for other topics of conversation but I always somehow connect something back to him and I find myself enthusiastically telling more about him to my mom. When dinner is over I go to my room and just listen to music. I know that doing anything that requires my mind to be present all the time isn't going to be happening. So I just let the sounds guide me through my thoughts of Marco. I think about how great it would be if we could have a picnic. We could eat under the Sun and then take a walk, holding each other's hands. Our first kiss would be underneath a tree and we'd just spend the rest of the day kissing, and walking and talking. 

I fall asleep with all of my thoughts on Marco.

* * *

 I actually have a fitful night of sleep. The only time I wake up is because my skinny jeans pinch me and I get up to change into something more comfortable.

When I wake up again it's ten o'clock. I go downstairs and throw in some frozen waffles into the toaster. I lean against the counter and wait for them to finish toasting. I feel my lips lodge themselves into a grin.

I'm going on a date with Marco today.

I look out the window in pure bliss and stop right there. It's fucking snowing.

 _It's fucking snowing._ Why today? I could have taken him on some cute cliche picnic thing if the nice weather from yesterday kept up. Or we could have just walked around and seen the sights, but no, it's fucking snowing and probably cold as tits.

I sigh and wait impatiently for the waffles to finish. I slap some peanut butter on them and pour excessive amounts of syrup on it before seating myself at the table. I take a bite of the waffles and contemplate why the world hates me so much before finally seriously thinking about some first date ideas.

I take out my phone and search up 'cute first dates for winter.' I scroll through a lot of them and they sound kind of stupid, mostly because these things are outside of our interests. Poetry reading? Ice skating? No, I'd break my neck. See a concert? Well I'm shit out of luck cause no concerts are going on today I think.

I sigh and set my phone on the table before covering my face with my hands and groaning. This is tougher than I thought. Why can't we just build forts and drink hot chocolate?

Wait. Why can't we? The only problem with that is that neither of us have the house to ourselves. My mom said she was going to go run a lot of errands today but I don't know when she's going to leave. It would be a real downer on our date if my mom was here for an hour before she left. I suppose we could just drive around and look at Christmas lights but that would be a really lame thing to do in the afternoon.

I sigh and think of more afternoon things we could do. I could just take him out to lunch and we could eat until my mom leaves. But where could we eat? I could take him to Cici's Pizza. I fucking love it there. What's not to love? It's a buffet made entirely of pizza. Yeah, I think that'll be good. Between the two of us it should only be around eighteen dollars. I have enough money for that.

I eat the rest of my waffles, more or less content with what I've come up with. When I finish cleaning up I go up to the bathroom and take my morning shower. It wakes me up further and I can think a little more clearly. I polish my plans for our date. If my mom hasn't left before I go to pick up Marco we're going out for lunch. If my mom _has_ left then I'll immediately take him home and we can make lunch together. Then we can eat more stuff and watch Netflix and cuddle and, maybe, make forts. That sounds fun right? Oh god, I hope it will be. I hope it's not totally stupid.

I step out of the shower and dry myself off before wrapping the towel around my waist and moving to my room. I take my phone off of the desk and text Marco really quickly.

**To Freckles: come hungry cause im feeding you lunch**

**From Freckles: sounds good :)**

I turn the screen of my phone off and get to choosing an outfit. It's been, like, half an hour but I don't know what else to do with myself so I look through my closet, where I hastily stuffed my clothes back yesterday. I save myself the hassle of finding some jeans, since they all look pretty much the same anyway, and choose the pair that make my ass look the best. A shirt is an entirely different story though. I struggle with finding the perfect one about as much as I did yesterday. Actually, scratch that, it's worse. 

I end up wearing a plain gray long-sleeved shirt and roll the sleeves up to my elbows. This is good, right? I found it in the back of my closet. I twist back and forth in front of the mirror and look it over. It fits pretty well. I nod, pleased with my outfit and walk out of my room to check the situation in the kitchen. What can you even make for a date?

Before I make it to the kitchen I run into my mom who's on her way to the bathroom.

"Oh, Jean," my mom says. "I'm going to be leaving in a couple of hours to run my errands, do you need anything from the store?"

I shake my head. "No, I don't need anything." So she _is_ leaving before one. Plan of eating in is going underway.

"You look nice, dear," she says. "Where did you get that shirt?"  

"I just found it in the back of my closet," I say.

"You should wear it more often, it looks good on you," my mom says cheerfully before shutting the bathroom door behind her. I smile and head to the kitchen. I'm again struck with the realization that I don't know anything that could be relatively easy to make that isn't mac and cheese or ramen. 

Back to Google.

I search up stuff that you can make for dates but it's all boring stuff like salads or complicated French dishes. So I add the adjective 'easy' and the majority of the things that pop up aren't easy to make either. Like goddamn, I just want to make lunch with Marco. Eventually I'm driven to a random article about things that you can make with your kids, with the hopes that this will actually have something tasty and easy to cook for someone as inadequate as I am in the kitchen.

The french bread pizzas catch my eye and I click on the link to the recipe. Yes, it is simple. We have the cheese and butter in the house and some deli rolls that I could use in place of the french bread. I don't know about the rest of the stuff.

I think I need to go to the store for the marinara sauce and toppings. I wonder what toppings Marco likes on his pizza.

**To Freckles: wat kind of pizza toppings do u like?**

I go into the hallway closet and take out a jacket as I wait for Marco to reply. I shrug the jacket on and my phone buzzes with Marco's reply.

**From Freckles: I don't really have a preference**

**To Freckles: come on bro wat do you normally lean towards when you get pizza**

I scribble a quick note to my mom that I went to the store before I run up to my room and grab my wallet. Then Marco texts me again.

**From Freckles: I usually go towards olives and pepperoni**

**To Freckles: cool beans**

I grab my car keys on my way out and go over to Freedom quickly because I was right about the cold unfortunately and hop in. I start the engine but before I can drive anywhere I get another text.

**From Freckles: Are we having pizza this afternoon?**

**To Freckles: maaaaaaybe. the snow ruined my original plans so i had to improvise**

**From Freckles: haha ok. See you at 1 :D**

**To Freckles: see you then :)**

I entertain the thought of sending him a heart but I think that would be too much so I just settle for the smiley face. 

The drive to the grocery store is quick and I'm pretty much in and out of there quickly. I run errands for my mom a lot here so I'm pretty familiar with the store and finding the ingredients I need is easy, even though I don't have to buy them often. I actually don't think I ever buy pepperoni but it's right next to the cheeses so I've seen them around.

Check out is uneventful and I go home immediately after buying everything. I got the olives and marinara sauce and the pepperoni and some sausage 'cause you can't have a good pizza without sausage.

When I get back home I put everything away and sit on the couch. I don't know about the fort idea anymore. Is it too childish? 

I sigh and turn on the TV. I'll just go with the flow later on.

My mom comes down and takes a seat next to me. She tucks her feet underneath her.

"What are you watching?" she asks, settling in a little more.

"I, honestly, have no idea," I say. She laughs and takes the remote from me.

"I've been getting into Dancing With the Stars and they were doing some reruns last night, so I'm going to watch it now," my mom says.

I groan. "No, let's watch something else."

"It's good though, try watching it," my mom says, trying to coax me into watching it with her. 

I sigh. "Fine," I relent.

"Yes! You're going to love it," my mom says and starts up the recorded episode. I watch it with her and I do have to admit, a lot of them have got the moves. Damn, I wish I could move my hips like that. When the episode ends my mom looks up at me. "So what did you think?"

I shrug. "It was okay." Show me more.

"Do you want to watch another episode?" my mom asks, already scrolling through the other recordings of this.

"Yeah, sure," I say. Fuck, yes.

"I think you'll like this one, the dancers are all dancing to songs from their favorite movies," my mom says excitedly. We watch it and I'm fascinated with all the costumes and they way they all move around the stage. When the couples are all lined up and the final couple are eliminated I have to stop myself from jumping from my seat.

" _What?"_ I exclaim. "They shouldn't have been eliminated. Didn't the judges see the way he swung Karina around?"

"Randy was pretty stiff, dear," my mom points out.

I sigh. "Yeah. At least they chose a good movie I guess." Then I perk up. "That was awesome how Alfonso from The Fresh Prince of Bel-air was there too. He had some good moves."

"Oh, you're going to love this then, honey," my mom says and starts up a new episode. "This is the last episode of the season. I haven't seen it yet, but I know who wins."

We both watch, completely wrapped up in the show, impatiently fast forwarding through the commercials. I check my phone and almost do a double take at the time. I have to pick up Marco in ten minutes. I completely forget about the show.

"Sorry, ma," I say. "I have to get ready. I'm going to be hanging out with Marco for the rest of the day."

"What time is it?" my mom asks.

"Twelve forty," I answer.

"Shoot," my mom says. "That's fine, dear. Just don't be making a mess of the house if you two end up here. I'm leaving now."

She kisses me hastily on the cheek and goes to the foyer where her jacket is draped over the railings for the stairs. She's already dressed to run errands so she waves to me and leaves. I rush to my room where I check my reflection. I grab a brush and run it through my hair a few times. Then I put on some deodorant and a little bit of cologne. I check out of the window and hold in a little bit of anger over the weather. It's still snowing. It's fine, I planned a day in, right?

I put my socks and shoes on and a coat and head out the door. I still have a little while before it's actually one but with this weather I could be held up a little bit. Also, I'm really excited to see Marco. Thank god for my mother because if she hadn't gotten me into that TV show today I would have been gnawing at my nails for nearly two hours.

I get to Marco's house without incident and call him up on the phone after I get myself parked.

"Hey," he answers. "I saw you outside, I'm coming."

"Okay, see you in a sec, Marco," I say and hang up. True to his word, Marco comes out of his house. He's wearing a light brown shawl-collar sweater, giving him this warm look and I can't wait to cuddle with him. Is cuddling socially acceptable on a first date? How about making out? In all the movies they only peck each other on the lips on a first date and I really, really hope that's not true first date intimacy, because looking at Marco right now I'm realizing how dumb that is.

Marco comes over to the car and gets in. He smiles at me. "Hi, Jean."

"Hi, Marco," I say. I really hope my grin isn't as dopey as I think it is. I shift in my seat and face him. "Okay, question. Exactly how much do you want to go out in weather like this?" 

Marco glances out the window at the still falling snow. "Not a lot. And I'm guessing you don't want to drive around in this either?"

"Not at all," I answer. "So what do you think about a day in? My mom's out so we have my house to ourselves."

Marco shifts in his seat too and faces me. "So what do you have planned for us today then, Jean?"

"Well, I got this sweet pizza recipe off of the internet," I say. "And I have a Netflix account and hot chocolate. Did I mention forts were an option?"

"Forts?" Marco asks with a laugh.

"I don't know about you, but I miss them," I say. "And we're going off to college soon, I don't think it would hurt to tap into our inner child."

Marco chuckles. "It sounds like a good date, Jean."

I grin and take the car out of park. "I've never been on a proper date before but I'll blow you away, Freckles."

Marco laughs and we drop into an easy conversation. Marco tells me that his siblings pestered him about giving them their presents early this year. Marco nearly lost the will to keep denying them but he stayed strong. I tell him a little bit of Dancing With the Stars, of course this only gives him fuel to poke fun of me with.

"They were really awesome though," I defend, pulling into my driveway. "They know what to do with their hips, it's great."

We step out of the car and Marco laughs. "I know someone who could give you dance lessons." Marco stops laughing for a moment. "Well, I don't really talk to them anymore really."

I hate to see him bummed out so I daringly grab his hand. "Hey, you okay?"

He returns back to his cheerful self. "Yes, I'm good. Now show me this amazing pizza recipe."

I don't let go of his hand as I lead him inside. But I have to when we take our coats and shoes off. You bet your ass that I hold his hand again after our coats are off though. I take him to the kitchen and begin to take ingredients out.

"I hope you know how to cut things up because the few times I've tried I've nearly cut a finger off," I say when I set his small jar of olives on the counter.

"Yep, I've got this," Marco says, rolling his sleeves further up his arms. He bumps me out of the way with his hip and I nearly lose my footing.

"Geez, Marco," I say, clutching at the edge of the counter for balance.

"Your dancers aren't the only ones who know what to do with their hips," Marco says. I try not to blush furiously but here I am, doing just that. Was Marco just  _flirting_ with me? 

"Maybe I can just take lessons from you then," I say. He meets my eyes and I grin at him. He smiles back and I finally break eye-contact to get the sausage. "I'll brown this while you cut up those olives."

"Could I have a knife?" Marco asks politely.

I try not to face-palm because I totally forgot about that. Just- the flirting and the looking into each other's eyes. I don't think anyone could blame me, right?

I go over to where all the knives are and I don't know which one to use. "Um, do you have any idea which knife to use?" 

Obviously the big ones aren't going to be the best choice to cut those tiny-ass olives. Marco reaches around me and picks out a knife himself.

"I think this one will work," Marco says. I whip around and we're _really_ close. Marco smiles at me and backs away.

I get a small pan to cook the sausage in.

"Do you want any sausage?" I ask.

"No, I'm good with my olives and pepperoni," Marco says.

"Okay," I say. I get enough of the meat just for myself and turn on the stove. I begin stirring it around.

"Do you want olives?" Marco asks.

"Nah," I say. "I can't bring myself to like them."

"I've always liked them, even when I was a kid," Marco says. "But that was mostly because I could do this."

Something a little wet and a little slimy touches my cheek and I jump back. Marco's laughing and at the end of his pointer finger is an olive.

"That's gross, Marco," I say, rubbing my cheek, and I laugh with him.

"I loved sticking these on the ends of my fingers and saying that I had alien hands," Marco says, still laughing.

"You're a fucking dork," I state with a chuckle.

"Yeah, but then my mom would force me to eat them," Marco says. "I think that's when I started liking them for their taste too."

We talk about what foods we liked as children while Marco cuts up his olives and I cook my sausage. My tastes have been pretty singular, mostly revolving around pizza and steaks. Marco is a little more colorful with his food choices. He liked a surprising amount of vegetables but also a surprising amount of Hostess products that he had to learn how to burn off, which explains why he's so fit now.

The ingredients are pretty much ready after a little while and I take out the deli rolls, one roll for each of us and start setting them up. I get two spoons out and the marinara sauce. I hand him a spoon and we both spread marinara sauce over one side of a bun. Once we're done with that I hand over the cheese and we both put excessive amounts of it on our rolls. Then we put the toppings on. I throw on the pepperoni and sausage on mine and Marco puts on the pepperoni and olives on his neatly. We set them on a baking sheet and stick them in the oven.

"I think we have to wait, like, eighteen minutes for these babies," I say setting the oven to the appointed heat. 

Marco nods. We move to the dining table and sit down there.

"So what do you want to do for eighteen minutes, Marco?" I ask.

"I think you said something about a fort?" Marco says.

"Why, yes I did," I say and stand up again. "Follow me to where I think we should make your castle, your majesty." I grab his hand and hoist him up. We walk to the living room, our hands clasped together. "I think we should move the coffee table up in front of the TV stand, as far as it'll possibly go. And I was also thinking that we could flip the couches and armchairs around and push them closer together. What do ya think?"

Marco laughs. "I think you spent a lot of time thinking about this."

"Of course," I say. "I spent a lot of time thinking about our date." 

Marco smiles at me. "I did too."

"Of course, the snow made me alter my plans a lot," I say.

"You know, you mentioned that," Marco says. "What were you planning at first?"

"Some sickeningly romantic picnic," I say.

Marco laughs. "It's the middle of the winter, Jean. I'm surprised you didn't originally plan a day in."

I smile. "I just really wanted a picnic with you."

"We can have a picnic in the spring, when it's warmer," Marco says. I smile at him and move into the living room.

"Okay, let's get started on this fort," I say. "You flip the arm chairs around, I'm getting a blanket."

Marco nods and gets to work while I run upstairs and retrieve the duvet from my bed. I go back downstairs with the blanket trailing behind me.

Marco laughs upon sight of me. "You kind of look like a little boy with his blank-y."

"Shut up," I say playfully. "Even though I have a king sized bed this is meant for a queen, it's a little bit on the big side."

I drape the blanket over the couch and ask Marco to help me. The armchairs are already turned backwards, all that's left is the couch.

We work together to make it backwards. I go around it once it's done and move the coffee table up. I push the couch up a little further and Marco and I work together to get the armchairs fitting next to the couch. Once that's done I throw the blanket over them and we straighten it out. There's a little overhang from the blanket, but not nearly enough for adequate privacy so Marco goes around and takes the cushions from the couch and we set them up in front of the large space between the armchairs.

I straighten. "I think this is a success." 

"Not until we actually hang out in it," Marco says. "Having a fort is no fun if no one is in it."

"That is very true, Freckles," I say. "Let's go check on our food first."

Marco nods and he's the one who reaches for my hand this time. We go into the kitchen together and check the pizzas. The timer hasn't gone off yet but they look so dang good that we take them out early. It's fine, the bread is pretty crispy and the cheese is all melted.

I put on an oven mitt and take those suckers out.

"Those look really good," Marco says.

"Oh, yes," I say and set the tray on the counter. I take out a couple of plates and hand one over to Marco. We both fill our plates with our pizzas and head over to the fort. I kick over the cushions and let Marco in first. I crawl in behind him and set up the cushions again.

"Wait, could you hold this for a sec, please?" I ask, handing over my plate to Marco. I knock over a cushion again and crawl over to the coffee table where the remote is and turn on the TV. I back up into the fort again and secure the cushion. "Thank you," I say, taking back my plate.

I unashamedly put on Dancing With the Stars again. Marco chuckles at my choice but doesn't say anything further. We watch it in relative silence, only breaking it to comment on someone's dance moves or to state how good the pizzas are.

When I'm almost done with my lunch the doorbell rings and I sigh. I escape the fort and excuse myself for a little bit. I go to the front door and open it, about to tell whoever is there to fuck off.

"Hey there, Jean," Sasha says happily. She and Connie are bundled up and holding a top hat in front of them.

"What are you guys doing?" I ask. "You do realize that it's snowing and that any normal person would be at home?"

"Exactly, which is why we thought going around and having people pick who they were going to be giving their gifts to would be a good idea, since they'd all be home," Connie explains.

I blink at them. "You two need help."

"Well, pick one," Sasha says and offers the hat.

"Here, come inside for a little bit, it's cold as hell," I say and move aside to let them in. The come in and I close the door behind them.

"Pick one," Sasha repeats.

"Okay, okay," I say and stick my hand into the hat. I pull it out and unfold the paper that I had chosen. The person I'm going to be giving a gift to is Connie. "Marco's here, do you want him to choose too?"

"Yeah!" Connie says.

"Hang on a sec," I say and move back into the living room. I pop my head under the blanket of the fort. "Hey, Marco, Connie and Sasha are here, they want us to pick out who we're going to give gifts to for the secret Santa thing."

"Oh, really?" Marco says, setting his plate down and coming out of the fort. He stands up and follows me back into the foyer.

"Marco!" Sasha exclaims. "Here, pick someone to give a gift to."

Marco sticks his hand into the hat and takes a paper out. He unfolds it and reads the name.

"It smells like pizza," Connie observes.

"Oh, are you guys having pizza? Can we have some too?" Sasha asks. 

"We only made enough for the two of us," I say.

"Can we make some too then?" Connie asks.

"I thought you had to do the secret Santa thing for everyone else," I say. Please guys, not today. Not today.

"We only have to stop by Eren and Mikasa's house. Armin's there too, so we're knocking out those three last, which would be right after you," Sasha says.

I push them towards the door and lower my voice to a whisper. "I love you guys, but you can't stay today. Tomorrow or the next day, but not today."

"But why not?" Connie asks and thank god he whispers back.

"Because- because important things are happening today," I explain, glancing over my shoulder at Marco. He doesn't seem to be paying attention to us and is in deep thought, probably over what to get whoever is on his paper a present.

Sasha flicks her eyes from me to Marco and back to me before grinning mischievously and whispering, "Come on Connie, they're on a  _date."_

"Sasha," I hiss in warning under my breath.

Understanding dawns over Connie's face and he laughs and speaks normally. "Okay, Sash. We're leaving now. Bye, Marco."

"Bye," Marco says.

"We're telling everyone that you two are shacking up," Connie whispers to me.

"I'm going to fucking kill the two of you," I whisper back. I push them out the door and they smile and wave before going back to Connie's truck.

I sigh and close the door. 

I turn around and face Marco. "So who did you get?" 

"I got Mikasa," Marco says. "I have no idea what to get her though. I don't really know her." 

"She loves scarves so I'd get one for her," I say. Marco nods and stuffs the piece of paper into his back pocket.

"Ready to go back into the fort?" Marco asks.

"Yes," I say. "I got cold again and it's nice and warm in there."

We move back into the fort and finish off our meal. The episode of Dancing With the Stars ended shortly before Connie and Sasha arrived and we changed it to Netflix. Gabriel Iglesias' comedy show is playing but it's really just background noise as Marco and I talk. Marco mostly makes me talk about myself and I tell him about my parents. After I get tired of hearing about myself I try to coax Marco into telling me a little bit more about his old town and school. But he doesn't give away anything, he only says "I'm glad we moved away."

Marco turns his attention back to the TV after that and we start watching it together and laughing comes easily again. After a little bit I speak again.

"Do you want some hot chocolate?" I ask.

"Yeah, that sounds great, Jean," Marco says cheerfully. We crawl out of the fort again and go to the kitchen and make ourselves some hot chocolate. Once that's done I get the whip cream out of the fridge and put copious amounts of it over my hot chocolate.

"Do you want some?" I ask Marco, offering the whip cream to him.

"Of course," he says and adds some to his mug too.

We go back into the living room and our little fort and sit comfortably, basically just eating the whipped cream off of our hot chocolate.

Marco laughs. "You have whipped cream all over your nose."

"Oh, shit," I say with a chuckle and move my hand to wipe it off but Marco beats me to it. He swipes his thumb over my nose and his palm is resting against my cheek. I look towards him and his hand doesn't move at all. He licks his lips and scoots forward.

"Can I- can I kiss you?" he asks. 

"God, yes," I mutter. 

We close our eyes and lean forward at the same time and meet halfway. When his lips touch mine, I don't know what I was expecting really, but there's no fireworks and no parade, there's just Gabriel Iglesias and people laughing in the background and Marco's lips and the lingering taste of hot chocolate and I have never done anything that has felt as right as this.

I sigh and lean forward, pressing our lips together more firmly. Marco breaks away first. He rests his forehead on mine. I feel my huge-ass smile coming in and I make no effort to stop it. Marco's smiling too. I kick out the entrance to the fortress again and take Marco's mug gently out of his hands. I set our hot chocolates on the coffee table so they're out of the way.

When I come back in I don't even bother with setting the cushions back. I push Marco gently until he's lying on his back. Then I rest half-way on him and half-way on one of my elbows.

"Is this okay?" I ask.

"Yes," Marco breathes. He cups his hand over the back of my head and brings me back down. We kiss again and this time it's deeper. We tilt our heads, slotting our lips together. He sucks on my lower lip and I groan.

I tentatively swipe my tongue over his lips and he opens his mouth to the touch. We probe around each other's mouths shyly, sighing and moaning softly. I rub my hand over his arm, up and down and up and down. He is muscular. He's soft too. His skin is smooth and his hands on me are gentle. They glide over my back and through my hair, sometimes feather-light touches, sometimes very obviously _there_.

I don't want to pull away but we both need air. I stare at him and he stares back. And for the first time since we started doing this we don't look away out of embarrassment or because someone else was demanding our attention. We look at each other for a long time and at some point I moved my hand to his face and started running my thumb over his cheekbone.

I peck him on the lips one more time before lying down and cuddling into his side. He wraps an arm around me and I rest my head on his chest. We don't say anything, just hold each other, sometimes shifting for some more lazy kisses. Marco falls asleep I think because his breathing deepens and I follow him shortly after. By the time that happens the house is silent, the show over, no background noise to interrupt this peace.

I wake up to the sound of the front door and my mother coming in. It takes a moment for my groggy mind to register that she's coming into the living room.

"Jean Kirschtein,  _what_ happened to my furniture?" my mom shouts into the house, wanting me to know that she had definitely noticed the mess.

"Shit," I whisper. I detach myself from Marco who was startled awake and is looking around in confusion. I crawl over him and poke my head over the duvet ceiling, just enough for the top of my head and my eyes to be seen by my mother.

"Jean, what did I say about making a mess?" my mom asks in exasperation.

"To not make one," I say, sounding like a child. Which is fitting, considering I'm kind of hiding from my mom in a fort. I look down at Marco who's now fully awake and looking a little guilty. "What time is it?" I ask him.

He scrabbles around for his phone and checks the time. "Just a little past five."

I chuckle. "Did you have a nice nap?"

"I had a great one," Marco says.

I resist the urge to kiss him and pop my head over the fort again, from the nose, up. "Sorry, ma, we'll clean it up."

"We? Is Marco still here?" my mom asks.

Now it's Marco's turn to reveal half of his face, from the nose, up as well. "Hi, Mrs. Kirschtein."

"Hello, Marco, dear. Didn't I tell you to call me Catherine?" my mom says. Geez, she really loves Marco. Not that I can blame her.

"Yes, sorry, Catherine," Marco says and reveals the rest of his face to show his smile.

"Could you two please clean this mess up?" my mom pleads. "I'm tired so I'm going to rest in my room, apparently."

"Passive-aggressiveness is an ugly shade on you, ma," I say. My mom rolls her eyes at me and goes upstairs. I laugh and sit down again.

"Guess we have to take this down," Marco says, a little disappointment tinting his words.

I look at him and grin. "I'd much rather kiss you some more in here."

Marco smiles and indulges me with one slow kiss. He pulls away.

"We should really clean," Marco mutters.

"But making out in the fort sounds _so_ much better," I say.

"Jean, I don't think your mom wants to come down to the sight of this mess still here and you on top of me," Marco says with a chuckle.

I sigh and stand up, pulling Marco with me. We get to work with tearing down our castle. It takes longer than actually setting it up but I don't mind. Not when I get less afraid of my mom coming down and seeing when I pull Marco flush against me to steal another kiss. Because once that fear's gone I do it every time he passes me and it's fucking amazing.

Eventually the living room is back to it's original state and Marco and I are admiring our handiwork. I raise my hand for a high-five. Marco doesn't leave me hanging. 

"Nice work, Freckles," I say. He smiles and I check the time again. It's five-thirty. When I look outside there are still small flurries of snow. It's light though, light enough to drive in. "What do you say to admiring some Christmas lights?"

"Are you sure, Jean?" Marco asks, following my line of sight to the window. "It's dark and  _still_ snowing." 

"It's not all that bad," I say. I grin at him. "You know, Christmas is on Thursday and today is Saturday. We're running out of time to admire the lights and, I'll admit, they'll probably look really pretty with the snow still falling."

"I think you've convinced me," Marco says, still smiling. 

"Bundle up then, Marco," I say. "It's time to see some Christmas lights."

Marco and I get our coats and shoes on quickly.

"Hey, ma! Marco and I are going out for a bit," I shout upstairs. 

"Alright. Be careful, boys!" my mom shouts back, her voice a little muffled from the door of her bedroom.

Marco and I head out to the car together. I start the engine and back out of the driveway. And this time, when I reach out for Marco's hand, I don't stop myself from holding it. Our fingers zip together and I run circles with my thumb over the back of his hand.

"Do you want to start in this neighborhood?" I ask.

"Yeah," Marco says, but he's already gazing out the window and admiring the little lights that hang from my neighbors' roofs. They're not all that special, some of them have only simple white lights as their decorations but it has Marco sighing in content when he sees them. 

I go through the neighborhood slowly, intentionally going towards the house that goes all out every Christmas. When we arrive there Marco smiles and sits up a little straighter. He squeezes my hand lightly in his excitement and watches the multi-colored lights parade by us as we crawl by and a giant Santa and snowmen wave at us, reindeer and sleigh parked nearby. From the tree hangs bright snowflakes that wink and twinkle prettily. 

I end up not looking at any of it and admire Marco instead. The way his eyes light up brighter than any of those stupid lights is what gets me, what captures my gaze. Not for the first time, and certainly not the last, I'm thinking about how beautiful Marco is. His smile, his freckles, his lips, his kindness, his love. All of it is more beautiful than any Christmas light could ever hope to be.

I raise our joined hands and kiss Marco's. Closing my eyes and reveling in the feeling of being able to do this, of not having to hold back these feelings that I've never felt so strongly from pouring out of me. 

I've hit the brakes on the car so I can close my eyes and I hear Marco shift in his seat. 

"Jean," he whispers. I open my eyes and look at him. In his face is a softness that I haven't seen on him before. Well, I have but it wasn't to this extent and it makes me soar.

"Marco," I whisper back.

"Thank you for today, Jean," Marco says.

"I think I should be thanking  _you,_ you know," I say. "Just for being here."

Marco kisses me. There's no tongue this time just a press of lips against lips. I think it's as intimate as if we were, more so actually. 

We pull away from each other and I keep driving. There are no words spoken between us verbally but I have a feeling that we've both accepted that moment as something we'll remember for the rest of our lives.

We drive around for more than an hour, kissing at random times and watching the lights go by our windows. The snow doesn't bother me. Right now, it's actually wonderful.

Marco's phone buzzes and he groans.

"My mom is summoning me," Marco says with a humph that I find _so_ adorable.

"Okay, I'll take you home," I say and turn the car around, heading towards his house.

The drive is far too short and my car is idling in front of his house before we know it.

Marco turns towards me. "I don't think I'll be able to see you until the Christmas Eve party."

"Well that sucks," I say and kiss him again. "It's okay. I'll wait for you."

"Sorry," Marco mutters. "My mom doesn't know who's coming to our Christmas dinner this year and she's stressing out."

"It's alright, my mom does the same thing," I say with a chuckle.

"I can't picture your mom getting stressed out," Marco says.

"Oh, believe me, it happens," I say.

Marco looks towards his house and sighs. "I have to go, my mom is peaking through the curtains."

I follow his line of sight and sure enough a woman is squinting at my car. I laugh.

"Hey, wait," I say. I kiss him again. Deeply. "Something to hold onto for the next few days."

Marco smiles. "I have plenty that I can hold onto for the next few days. I'll call you if I can manage to escape the house before the party."

He waves at me before getting out of the car. He goes up his path and I watch him go until he turns back around and waves again before going into his house. I sigh and slump in my seat.

I think I'll file today under the best fucking day of my life. 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Marco spend Christmas Eve with their friends and reveal their developing romance. Once the party is over Jean prepares his Christmas gift for Marco. On Christmas Jean spends some quality time with his family and at the end of the day he pays Marco a visit.

Tuesday and Wednesday felt really, really long. Monday wasn't so bad because I got to see Marco again. We went shopping, this time for our presents for Connie and Mikasa and I picked up some things for my grandparents too. It was fucking amazing. We met early- which for me was, like, eleven o' clock- and we had coffee in a cute little cafe. Then we went to the mall, the indoor one this time because it was  _still_ snowing. I'm not entirely sure if that counted as a date since neither of us technically asked "I'm free on Monday, so do you want to go on a date?" Is that even a required thing? Or is it that every time we go out it's automatically counted as a date? I don't know, I'm calling it a date because we ended up making out in my car and in front of some unsuspecting old lady and it was less of a shopping trip so much as the two of us getting used to our new-found relationship.

We're still a little skittish I think. I don't know if Marco is out yet actually, not that I'm one to judge since I'm not out either, because sometimes when I went to grab his hand or kiss him he would jump and look around with this deer-caught-in-the-headlights look. But then he would relax and take my hand or kiss me softly. I don't think I should be too worried though... right? Because I was a little freaked out about a person looking at us wrong too. But that only happened once and I think it was because that old woman turned the wrong corner at the wrong time and found a little bit of a surprise.

I'm still worrying about Marco. Is it normal for gay couples to be as jumpy as he was at times? Fuck, if he _was_ really nervous I shouldn't have pushed the PDA.

"Jean?" my dad asks.

I snap back to our late lunch. "Yeah, dad?"

"Nothing, I was just making sure you hadn't spontaneously gone deaf," my dad says with a lop-sided smile.

"I can hear perfectly fine," I assure him, returning the smile.

My dad came back home last night. We really didn't have time for much more other than dinner before he went to bed because he was so tired. So far today, we've spent the whole day together. I won't leave him alone. My mom says I'm acting almost like I did when I was younger.

"Did something good happen?" he asks.

"Not particularly," I lie. I feel that twinge of regret and guilt in my chest. I want to tell them about Marco and I, I really do. But again, there's a part of me that's not ready and now I'm worrying about how Marco would feel about our relationship being out there, officially.

"That is a lie, young man, and your father and I know it," my mom says. "You've been all dreamy-eyed since Saturday, something _must_ have happened."

"I-" I start. But I clamp my mouth shut. I'll ask Marco before I tell them. If he's not out yet to anyone other than our friend group then I don't want to tell anyone without his consent. So I settle on a small hint of truth. "I think I'm going to start seeing someone." 

My mom makes an excited sound. "Who are they? What's their name?" 

I smile. "I'll introduce them to you guys later. Not right now though, because you'd probably scare them away."

"We aren't scary, are we?" my dad asks with a frown. 

"Meeting the parents is always scary," I point out.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. Could be Connie or Sasha or any of my other friends. Could be Marco. The chance of the latter makes me whip my phone out at light speed.

**From Hot Bodty: What time are you picking me up again?**

I'm a little ashamed to say that I'm really proud of the shitty pun that is now Marco's caller ID.

**To Hot Bodty: party doesnt start until 3:30 but u cn come over early ;)**

**From Hot Bodty: really?**

**To Hot Bodty: i could pick you up right now and we could have an hour and a half to ourselves**

**From Hot Bodty: I don't think I can pass up that offer**

**To Hot Bodty: hold on freckles im coming**

I grin and stuff my phone back into my pocket. "Um, so when exactly are you two going to be leaving?" 

My dad glances at the clock. "The movie starts in half an hour." 

Doesn't really answer my question, but I can get an estimate from that. I managed to get my parents to leave for date night before the party. It's good because they get to spend time together that they didn't get over the past month and  _I_ get some quality time with my friends.

"Oh, okay cool," I say. "I'm going to pick up Marco right now, will you be gone when I get back in about twenty minutes?"

I feel like I'm doing a shit job at covering up the fact that I plan to suck face with Marco.

"Probably," my mom says.

"Well that sucks, I just wanted dad to meet Marco," I say. Did that cover up my tracks better?

"How about we have him over for dinner sometime?" my dad asks.

"Yes, that sounds awesome," I say. Didn't really plan on having a dinner where Marco meets the parents but I guess that isn't too bad of a thing. I think- I think I really want to tell my parents about our relationship. I'm ready, I just don't know if Marco is.

"Bye, son," my dad says as I stand up from my chair.

"Bye, guys," I say. I give mom a quick kiss on the cheek and take a quick hug from my dad before running outside and going over to Marco's house. 

When I finally make it there I call him to tell him I'm in his neighborhood.

He picks up after the second ring. "Hey, Jean."

"Hiya," I say and turn the corner to Marco's street. "I'm practically in front of your house now." 

I hear him stomping through his house, apparently his shoes are already on and he has hard-wood floors. "I'm practically outside."

"See ya in a sec," I say and hang up. I pull up in front of Marco's house and wait the second that it takes him to get outside and into the car before pulling him into a chaste kiss.

"Hey, there," Marco murmurs against my lips.

"Hi," I say and smile. "Better get home so we can do that some more."

Marco hums his agreement, putting his present for Mikasa in the back seat. I drive home in record time. We pull up just as my mom and dad are coming out of the house.

"Is that your dad?" Marco asks, gesturing towards him.

"Yeah," I say. "You want to meet him really fast?"

"Of course," Marco says.

I reach back and take Marco's present out before I hop out of the car, Marco close at my heels.

"Hey dad," I say, "This is the freckled saint, Marco that you've been hearing so much about."

My dad smiles at Marco and extends his hand. "Nice to meet you, Marco. I'm Gerrard, Jean's father."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Marco says and takes my dad's hand.

"Marco, dear," my mom says once Marco and dad drop their hands. "Will you come and have dinner with us next week?" 

"Yeah, I think I can come over," Marco says.

"We would love to have you," my dad says.

Marco beams and my fingers itch for his hand. I almost make a move to lace our fingers together, but again there's Marco's comfort with this and I think it would be a bad idea to just drop the bomb here on the driveway, a second before my parents leave for their date, that their son is dating a guy. A beautiful, amazing guy but I don't know how much that'll soften the blow for them.

"Well, we have to go, see you boys later," my mom says. Then my parents climb into the car and drive off. Marco and I wave at them from the driveway before making our way inside.

We take our shoes off and I drag Marco up to my room.

"I don't think you've ever been in my room, have you?" I ask.

"No," Marco practically whispers.

I look down at him and smirk at his nervous expression. "Relax, Freckles, I'm not going to jump you."

Marco chuckles. I drag him to my room and am mildly relieved that it isn't as messy as I thought it was. There are only a few stray clothes that I have to throw in the hamper. The bed sheets are also a mess but I don't think that that's too much of a problem. I set Marco's present down on my desk before making my way towards the bed.

I move the blankets out of the way and sit down before patting the mattress in front of me. Marco sits and we settle down, facing each other. My legs are over his thighs and wrapped around his hips. His hands are on my back and his fingers trace random shapes there.

I hum in content and move forward. Once our lips touch I let Marco take all of the control, really all I want right now is be near him and to be kissed by him, that's all.

I let his lips guide mine open and let his tongue roll over mine before I twist it with his. Our lips move together and we prod around each other's mouths until I pull back for air. I nuzzle into the crook between his shoulder and neck and kiss him there. I sigh and feel Marco's arms wrap around me. It makes me feel secure and warm.

I don't want to break this moment but I don't know when another opportunity is going to present itself and I don't think at the party Marco will appreciate if I just announce that we're dating. I don't even know if that's okay to announce yet. Is there a time limit for this? Is it too soon to start telling people about this sort of thing? Especially my parents?

"Marco?" I say hesitantly.

"Hm?"

I take a deep breath. "About dinner, and the party too-"

Marco waits a while and when I don't continue he nudges me softly. "What about them?"

"Is it-" I start and then I falter again before getting my courage up once more. "Is it too early to tell our friends and my parents that you're my b-"

Well shit. I didn't mean to start saying  _my boyfriend_. But there it is on the tip of my tongue. I don't know where it came from. I'm pretty sure there are, like, levels to this. First your dating, that's where you can see other people and the relationship isn't set in stone, right (is that the stage we're in)?  _Then_ you say things like  _my boyfriend._ Which is the official monogamous declaration isn't it? Does Marco want that right now? Because, fuck, I really do.

Marco shifts and tucks his fingers under my chin to gently raise my head. "Your boyfriend?"

I blush and nod slowly. "Yes," I breathe.

He rest his forehead on mine and speaks. "I wouldn't mind if you told everyone that I'm your-" Marco pauses and a huge grin breaks out on his face. "That I'm your boyfriend." 

"Yeah?" I murmur, bringing our lips closer together but not letting them touch just yet.

"Yeah."

And again we're kissing. It's slower than last time. We have all the time in the world.

I move my legs and in my new position I'm straddling Marco. I gently push on his chest and have him lie down. We never separate from each other as Marco slowly lowers himself. I revel in the feeling of his tongue in my mouth and I lose myself in the feeling of it and his lips and the sound of our kissing.

I'm not entirely sure what comes over me, and that seems to be a recurring thing lately, but I start grinding down on Marco, leaving us both gasping. Marco starts pecking at the corner of my mouth and moves to my jawline before dropping to my neck. He starts lightly sucking there, not enough to leave marks but enough for me to groan. And a part of me wants him to make marks, so everyone knows that I'm his. 

I grind harder and shove my hands under his shirt. I move my hands up his stomach, loving the feeling of his skin and abs underneath my fingers. I move up further and further, stopping to massage him in areas. His skin is smooth up until I reach the upper part of his rib cage, beneath his chest where I feel the knot of a scar. Marco squirms and I get the hint, moving away from that spot that he isn't comfortable with me touching.

Marco also gets braver with his hands and trails them up my back, bringing my shirt with him so that my torso is half-way bare by the time he stops moving. He bites my neck and sucks and I  _know_ that there's going to be a mark now and it only makes me move my hips a little more enthusiastically. 

Marco moans and I discover that I fucking love that sound. I reclaim Marco's lips and the kiss isn't slow this time around. It's frantic and wanton but feels just as right as every other kiss I've shared with him.

Marco starts moving his hips with me and I realize that I'm hard. It makes me stop our kissing, even though I don't want to. I pull back and look at Marco's face. His cheeks are slightly flushed and his lips are swollen. Fuck, he really is beautiful. I loved having my hands trail around his body and explore just a little bit but I don't think I can handle more, not yet. I'm a virgin and to top it off, totally unprepared for gay sex. I don't know who's going to top or bottom. Is that something we need to talk over or is it just something that happens? Will I just find myself becoming the guy or the girl of the relationship one day? And besides that isn't there some prep or something that has to be done? Yeah, I don't know anything about that. 

"Hey," Marco says, trying to get my attention by poking my cheek. "What's wrong?"

I get off of Marco and sit up, pulling my shirt down so it covers the tent in my pants. "S-sorry."

Marco flicks his eyes down to where my hands are desperately trying to cover my boner. The shirt isn't really working out so I drag a blanket across my lap. Understanding dawns on Marco's face. Then he's sitting up and trying to cover his lap too. Well, this is going to be awkward for a little while.

I offer one side of my blanket to Marco and he takes it gratefully.

"Sorry," I mutter again. "I- I just don't think I'm ready for anything more."

Marco smiles reassuringly. "That's fine, Jean. You don't have to apologize."

"Do you need to use the shower or something?" I ask. Marco shakes his head and I snort. "Yeah, that awkward minute was enough of a boner killer."

Marco laughs. I love his laugh.

"Do you just want to cuddle?" I ask, feeling the awkward feeling return again. I think it's just me though because Marco beams and holds his arms out. I lean forward and press my face into his chest, letting his arms envelope me. 

I don't think I'm ever going to get tired of this. Not one bit.

We spend about an hour just cuddling and talking. Nothing important, it's mostly just the excited talk before the holidays. After that Marco turns silent for a while before speaking again.

"Hey, Jean," Marco says, his fingers are stroking my hair soothingly.

"Yes?" I say.

"About telling parents about us," Marco says. "Is it okay if I tell mine too?" 

"Of course," I say. I lift my head and smile at him. But he doesn't smile back, he chews at his bottom lip and looks away.

"It's just that they might not take it well," Marco says. "I mean, they know I'm gay but with my last boyfriend... there were a lot of problems."

I feel a twinge of jealousy about hearing of someone that Marco used to be with but I push it down quickly. This isn't a time for my petty feelings, Marco seriously had problems with his parents and his sexuality.

"Did they stop talking to you or-?" I ask. The look on Marco's face is making me worry.

"No. No they just got really worried and overprotective," Marco says. "They told me not to tell anyone about him. And sometimes they would urge me to break up with him, especially when they first found out about us and after-."

He doesn't continue talking, leaving that sentence hanging. When it's clear he's not going to speak again I shift and face him fully.

"Oh, Marco," I whisper. I lift my hand and my fingers lightly touch his cheek. His eyes slowly meet mine and his smile returns to his face.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to start talking about an ex," Marco says.

"It's fine, Marco," I say. "You were just warning me about your parents right? It wasn't like you were swooning over him."

"Yeah, I'm too busy swooning over  _you,"_ Marco says with a smirk. He twists so that I'm underneath him and kisses me sweetly. He opens his mouth to make it deeper and just at that moment the fucking doorbell rings. God help whoever is on the other side.

I'm about to tell Marco to ignore them when the doorbell rings again. I don't know if they slammed it with a sledgehammer or what but it's louder and more annoying than the first time. It must be Connie and Sasha or Eren. I can't believe it's three thirty already.

"You should probably get that before they knock the door down," Marco says.

"Do you happen to have an ax handy?" I grumble. Marco laughs softly and rolls off of me.

I get off the bed and go downstairs begrudgingly. When I reach the front door I swing it open with a little more force than necessary. 

"Jean!" Sasha exclaims. She's carrying two packs of beer and a bag of what I assume is holding their presents. She rushes in and gives me a hug before promptly going to the kitchen. Hopefully to set down the two six-packs instead of going to raid the cabinets. Connie comes in after her, carrying one more six-pack and his guitar.

"Why'd you bring your guitar?" I ask, closing the door behind him once he steps inside.

"I didn't practice Christmas songs for nearly three weeks for nothing," he says, toeing his shoes off.

"Right. I'm going to go get Marco really quick, try not to empty kitchen," I say. 

"Yes sir!" Connie says dutifully. He rushes into the kitchen after Sasha.

I go upstairs and find Marco already coming down the hallway.

"I heard Sasha and Connie," he says. 

"Hold on there, Freckles," I say, stopping him gently. "This is going to be the last minute we're going to have alone for the rest of the night."

"True," Marco says, a lopsided grin already making its way onto his face.

"Don't you think we should spend it wisely?" I ask. Marco's already backing up into the wall.

"I think we should," Marco murmurs. I hum and kiss him. He sighs and melts against the wall. I press a little closer and take his face into my hands. I tilt my head and hear a soft gasp. That definitely was not what Marco sounds like. I pull away and look towards the stairs. Sasha and Connie are peering over the top step. Christ, did they teleport or something?

"I  _knew_ it," Sasha squeals. She scrambles up the steps, Connie close behind her.

I pull away from Marco slowly, my face burning. I chance a look at him and he's in pretty much the same state that I am. We both agreed that we were going to tell our friends about this but having them find out by catching us making out wasn't exactly how we wanted it to first be discovered.

"Why didn't you tell us that you were dating?" Connie asks.

"Well, we were," I say. "We just hadn't gotten around to it."

"How long have you two been boyfriends?" Sasha asks. "Has it been since you first met? Jean, don't think I didn't see you getting all excited when you were waiting for Marco to come to lunch on that first day, and pretty much everyday after that."

"You looked at his ass a lot too," Connie offers.

Wow. I guess I was obvious. Kinda feel like melting into the floor now. Kinda feel like dying a little bit too. Unfortunately neither of those two things are an option so I just settle for groaning and burying my face in my hands. I peek at Marco through my fingers and he's trying not to laugh.

"Don't laugh, Marco. You're making it worse," I whine.

There's a knock on the door that's loud enough for me to know that it's either Reiner or Mikasa.

"Hey, let's go downstairs," I say, failing miserably at changing the subject. Connie and Sasha laugh at me but go downstairs anyways. Marco follows, grabbing my hand along the way. I let him drag me downstairs where Sasha has already answered the door.

Reiner comes into the door with Bertoldt. They have a few six-packs with them as well. 

"Hey guys," I say, twisting my hand in Marco's. Not to get away from him, just out of nervousness. He gives me a reassuring squeeze as we descend the stairs.

"Hi," Sasha says. "Jean and Marco are dating."

"Nice greeting, Sasha," I say.

"So you didn't wimp out," Reiner observes happily.

"What? You talked to Reiner about this rather than your best friends?" Sasha asks, faking hurt in her voice.

"You couldn't exactly help out with the whole thinking you're straight until some amazing guy decides to blind you with their amazingness and make you bisexual," I say.

"I think you played up the amazing part, Jean," Marco mutters.

I smile at him. "Not even close."

He smiles shyly and ducks his head.

"Well aren't you two adorable," Reiner says.

"Come on, let's put the beer down," Bert says softly. Thank you, Bertoldt for stopping your boyfriend from harassing us further. 

"Wait," Connie says, stopping them before they can get any farther. "Where are your secret Santa gifts?"

"Oh we already gave them to each other," Reiner says. "I couldn't wait to give mine to Bert so I gave it to him last night. Then I discovered that he was my secret santa too so we just ended up giving them to each other early."

"What were they?" Sasha questions curiously.

"N-nothing," Bert says, quickly dragging Reiner into the kitchen with a red face. 

"Well someone got sex for Christmas," Connie observes. 

"I bet someone else did too," Sasha says and wiggles her eyebrows at me.

"Go to the kitchen, Sash," I say and push her and Connie.

Reiner and Bert are there setting up the beers that they brought with them. Bert is still red faced.

Reiner helps himself to a can of beer and settles on the couch. Sasha goes through the cabinets and only draws back when she's found the stash of chips that I bought for this occasion. She takes out two of the four bags of them.

Sasha drags Connie to the couch where Reiner is turning on the TV. Bert, Marco and I hang back and try to get the kitchen back in order. Reiner made a mess of the beer and Sasha left a small mess when she opened the bag of chips. Between the three of us it's cleaned up quickly. Before we go into the living room though Bert stops us.

"I'm really happy for you guys," Bert says. "Reiner too."

"Thanks, Bert," Marco says.

"I know it can kind of be scary to come out but we've got your back," Bert says.

Marco and I smile at him and nervously lace our fingers together again.

Bert goes into the living room and sits next to Reiner who's watching Connie and Sasha sift through my collection of video games. They're bickering over a handful of them but I ignore them and drag Marco down onto the couch next to me, putting me between him and Bert. I rest my head on his shoulder and feel his body slowly start to relax again.

"Are you okay with this, Marco?" I ask him quietly.

"Yes," he answers, knowing what I mean. I snuggle into him a little more, knowing he's comfortable. I get why he's skittish around showing affection in front of people now. His parents weren't understanding and it's made him scared. I want to show him that it's okay. That there are people who are okay with this and he doesn't have to be afraid or secretive anymore. This makes it even more important that I tell my parents and quell my fear of not being accepted because Marco's is greater and I don't need to make it worse for him.

I squeeze his hand and he squeezes back, finally relaxing against the couch all the way.

Sasha and Connie finally settle on a video game but it only supports single player so I see another argument coming on before it even happens. Thankfully the doorbell rings and I get to leave and at least miss the beginnings of it. However I do have to detach myself from Marco which sucks but I get up anyways.

When I answer the door Armin, Eren and Mikasa are waiting on the other side.

"Hi," Armin says cheerfully. I step aside and let them all in.

"Everyone's in the living room," I say. "There are beers in the kitchen too."

"Sweet," Eren says and makes a beeline to the kitchen after handing over his gift to Mikasa.

Mikasa, Armin and I head back to the living room.

"Hi guys," Connie says cheerfully. Apparently there wasn't an argument because Sasha is happily playing the game and Connie is watching her.

"Jean and Marco are dating," Sasha says by way of greeting.

"Are you going to greet everyone like that?" I ask, settling next to Marco again.

"Probably," Sasha says.

"Well it's about damn time," Eren says, joining the rest of us in the living room. Wow, it must have been really obvious if even Eren picked up on it.

Armin smiles at me before turning his attention to Eren who's holding out a water to him. He takes it gratefully and Eren sinks down on the floor right next to him. Mikasa situated herself in the armchair that isn't being occupied by Sasha and Connie is on the floor, at Sasha's feet.

We quickly fall into a routine of passing off the controller when someone dies in the game. We make a circle around, letting different people play each time and everyone else shouting out their strategies. When the controller is passed to me I decline and settle for playing with Marco's fingers instead.

Annie is the next one to knock on the door. Sasha lets her in since she was the first to jump up.

Annie sits at the foot of Mikasa's chair. Mikasa hesitantly extends a hand and starts playing with Annie's hair. She doesn't protest and soon Mikasa is braiding and unbraiding it over and over again. The way Mikasa seems happy over being able to touch her just a little bit makes me wonder if she was wondering about her sexuality too when we kissed at Connie's party. Wow, that feels like such a long time ago, but it can't have been more than two weeks.

Two weeks. I think I've learned that a lot can change through a short amount of time. Look at me now, cuddling with my boyfriend freely where everyone can see us and feeling so  _right_. I haven't even had an existential crisis since I met Marco. Before that I'd have them often but I haven't seen one in a long time. 

I shift and kiss Marco quickly before settling my head on his shoulder again. He lifts his hand and begins stroking my hair, sighing in content.

I listen to the cacophonous sound of our friends and feel at peace, just glad to be here.

The doorbell rings and Reiner volunteers to get it.

"Jean's going to complain the rest of the night if he has to detach himself from Marco," Reiner explains.

"Damn right," I say and sling a leg over Marco's. Marco chuckles, hooking an arm around my waist and bringing me closer.

Reiner rolls his eyes and goes to answer the door.

"Wait! Annie, pause the game!" Sasha exclaims. Once Annie complies, Sasha continues. "Now that everyone's here, get your presents ready."

All of them, except for mine and Marco's are piled onto the coffee table so it doesn't take long before everyone has their presents in hand. Ymir and Christa have come in and are settled in front of the couch. I pushed the coffee table forward so they wouldn't be squished as Marco went upstairs to get our gifts.  When Christa saw Marco and I on the couch she gave us hugs and told us that she was happy for us. Ymir just winked and told us to have fun.

"Okay everyone, give each other your gifts," Sasha says once Marco returns and is settled back onto the couch.

I give mine to Connie and Connie hands over his gift to Marco. Marco leans over and gives his gift to Mikasa who takes it with a polite smile. Sasha hands her gift over to Armin and Armin gives his to Eren. Annie hands Sasha a bag of potato chips with a bow on it. Ymir hands a small box to Christa and Mikasa hands over her gift to Ymir. Christa hands her gift over to Annie.

"Hey, Jean," Eren says from his place on the floor. "Catch!" 

He throws it and I catch it. It's a poorly wrapped box but I guess I can't ask too much since it's Eren.

"We'll go counter-clockwise. Jean, Marco, you open your things first since you just started dating," Sasha says.

"That isn't even logical," Eren says.

"Too bad, we have to start _somewhere,_ " Sasha says.

"You go first," I say to Marco, bumping his shoulder with mine. He smiles at me and begins unwrapping. He pulls out a box with the picture of a lava lamp with red and orange stuff inside.

"I wasn't too sure what to get you but you can never go wrong with lava lamps," Connie says.

"Thanks, Connie!" Marco says with a grateful smile. "It's really cool and in my favorite colors too."

"Alright!" Connie says, pleased that he got a good present for Marco. 

"Go Jean, go!" Sasha says. I smile and unwrap my present. There's another box that I have to go through before I get to the actual thing but when I do Eren starts laughing.

"I saw it and it reminded me of you," Eren says, barely holding back his laughter as I hold up the horse mask that he so  _graciously_ bought me.

"Thanks, Eren," I say dryly. Marco giggles at my side and I throw up my hands. "I'm alone in this world! Even my boyfriend is laughing at this."

That gets everyone else to laugh and even I'm smiling. I poke at Ymir's back with my foot.

"Your turn," I tell her. Ymir unwraps hers and reveals a framed drawing of her and Christa. Ymir has her arm draped across Christa's small shoulders and she's grinning, nuzzling her nose into Christa's hair. Christa's smile is soft and full of adoration.

"Wow," Ymir says. "I didn't know you could draw this well."

Mikasa shrugs. "It's not perfect."

"Thank you," Ymir says, obviously touched. Mikasa smiles at her and then Ymir is back to her normal attitude again. "Your turn, baby," she says to Christa.

Christa reveals a jewelry box. Everyone leans forward a little bit to see what's inside. When Christa opens it she reaches inside and brings out a necklace. The chain is delicate and thin and hanging from it is a simple silver heart and engraved in cursive are the words "I love you." Christa covers her mouth with a hand and looks towards Ymir who's looking at Christa with such open love that I feel like I'm intruding on a private and intimate moment between them.

"I love you too," Christa says. She throws herself into Ymir's arms and kisses her.

I look at Marco and he's smiling softly. I can see that this is the kind of romance that he wants. One where we can look at each other like Ymir and Christa do and give each other corny gifts that we can cherish forever and fling ourselves into each other's arms and kiss each other breathless. I want that too. But more importantly, I want that with _Marco_.

 When their moment is over they smile and Ymir looks towards Bert and Reiner.

"You go now," Ymir says.

"We already exchanged gifts," Bert says.

"Isn't that cheating?" Annie asks.

"Yeah, at least tell us what you got each other," Ymir says.

"Bert got me a jacket. It's tan and does wonders for my torso," Reiner says. "And I got Bert-"

"Nothing!" Bert cuts in. "Nothing at all."

Reiner snickers and kisses Bert.

"I don't think we want to know what it is anyways," Connie says. "Your turn Sash."

Sasha plucks the bow off of her bag of potato chips. She gasps. "Oh my gosh, it's a bag of Lays. Annie, I couldn't think of a gift that I would want anymore than this!"

Everyone laughs and Connie opens his present from me. He holds it up victoriously. "Socks!"

I got him two pairs, one pair with pissed off looking gingerbread men saying "Bite me!" and another really ugly pair that are supposed to look like brick chimneys with snow around their edges. Connie immediately takes his current pair of socks off and puts on the chimney ones.

"Thanks Jean!" he says happily. We laugh and move on to Eren. He tears into the wrappings and smiles when he sees what's inside.

"Armin, you god," he says, holding up the game Titanfall. "It's time to kick some titan ass!"

Armin laughs and begins unwrapping his. It's a copy of Treasure Island.

"Oh yes!" Armin says. "Thanks Sasha, I always love novels about adventure."

"I knew you would like it because of that," Sasha says happily.

Next up is Mikasa. She carefully unwraps Marco's present to her and smiles when she sees it.

"It's really pretty, Marco, thank you," she says, taking off the red scarf she wears most of the time and replacing it with the one Marco gave her. It's a tannish color with flowers on it- I think they're snapdragons, but that's with my limited gardening knowledge that I gained over the spring because of my mom wanting to start a garden.

Annie starts unwrapping hers next and reveals a box of clothes. There are a couple of blouses in there that Christa bought her and Annie lets a small smile slip past her barriers and thanks Christa genuinely. After her everyone is done with opening their presents and Connie shoots up.

"I waded through the internet for nigh on two days for decent sheet music," Connie says. "And after that I spent weeks practicing, so I will be serenading you tonight with _Jingle Bell Rock_ and _All I Want for Christmas is You_. You're welcome."

Connie slings the strap of his guitar over his shoulder and picks at the strings for a minute, making sure they're all tuned up before warming up on a few chords. He's standing in front of the TV, looking excited.

"This one's for you, Sash," Connie says with a wink to her. He strums his first chord and starts singing.

_I don't want a lot for Christmas_

_There is just one thing I need_

_I don't care about the presents_

_Underneath the Christmas tree_

Ymir joins in and starts singing to Christa who giggles and kisses Ymir on the nose.

_I just want you for my own_

_More than you could ever know_

_Make my wish come true_

_All I want for Christmas is you_

Reiner laughs and drags Bert off of the couch and finds an open spot before he starts to swing Bert around. Ymir, Christa, Marco and I follow their lead and find places around the living room and begin to dance with each other. I hold the small of Marco's back and our laced hands are lifted up to the level of our heads. I grin and we sidle along. I spin Marco around about halfway through the song and pull him flush against my chest, kissing him on the lips before spinning him again.

Everyone who isn't dancing claps along and Eren adds his voice to Connie's. Their voices sound good together, I'll admit.

The song ends far too quickly and Ymir is voicing my thoughts.

"Encore!" she says. Connie laughs.

"Whatever the lady says!" Connie says. This time he and Eren perform a full-on duet. The rest of us dance and laugh. It's warm and I feel at home here, spinning Marco around, singing the occasional verse, surrounded by the laughter of my friends, my family. Marco's smile is radiant and constant. Sometimes he tilts his head back to laugh when myself or someone else tries to hit a high note, only to have our voice crack.

When the song ends for the second time we're giggling and prodding Connie along, asking for more, anything just something we can sing to and dance to, something that keeps this feeling going.

"Alright, alright," Connie says. "You all are going to sing _Jingle Bell Rock_ with me, no excuses. Ready?" Connie starts strumming the opening notes, guiding us with a count down of when we need to jump in. "One, two, three!"

It's loud and chaotic when we start singing but none of us care. We're too happy to think that being loud and not completely in sync is a bad thing. I doubt we would have thought that it was a bad thing even if we weren't feeling on top of the world.

The lyrics carry me higher and higher, Marco's laugh making the music even sweeter.

Eren points at me when he starts singing  _giddy-up jingle horse pick up your feet._

I flip him off but it's not all that effective, considering I'm grinning like an idiot. The song wraps up after that and we're laughing and collapsing back in our places on the couch, on the floor. Sprawling over each other and cuddling.

Our high doesn't die down for a while. Actually I don't think it dies down at all because the rest of the night is a blur. Through the night all of the beers are being drunk by everyone, yes even Marco, Christa and Armin, who don't drink that often. Connie never really stops playing his guitar other than to take a swig of beer or to kiss Sasha. I remember at one point Eren was teasing me about trying his gift on. After a few minutes of him being annoying I put the stupid mask on and turn to Marco, saying "kiss me." It was more to get Marco to laugh again than to appease Eren. Marco did laugh and he also took the mask off of me and actually kissed me.

Once it started getting late and everyone started complaining about getting hungry I ordered pizzas. I think that was at seven. We wasted another half hour, I don't know doing what before the pizzas arrived. When they did it was a race for Sasha or Eren to see who could get to the food first. Of course Sasha seemed to forget that physics were a thing and ended up getting the food first. She also ended up paying for it because of that.

After that we stuffed our faces until all four boxes of pizza were gone. 

The rest of the night is spent with the rest of us talking over each other, hopping from one conversation to another, topics constantly changing and being replaced by others. Connie played his Christmas songs a thousand more times, each time everyone sang, even those in our group who were usually quiet.

We rocked the night away, making midnight come too early. I had to herd everyone out then so I could clean up before my parents got home. A few stayed behind- Marco, Armin, Christa and consequently Ymir- and helped me. When that was over they waved goodbye. Marco stayed behind for a little longer and we made out for a good while before I drove him home.

We kissed in my car for a while longer before he finally left. I felt disappointed to see him go but at some point in the party I figured out that I wanted to get him a Christmas present. I think it was when I saw the drawing that Mikasa did for Ymir. I don't think mine would look as good as that but I think Marco might like it. My dad too. I could give him the picture that I was working on of him and my mom.

When I get home it's well into one o'clock.

My parents aren't back yet so I do a quick check of the living room and make sure that it's all clean and beer-free. When I confirm that I go upstairs. I take off my clothes, leaving me in just my underwear. I climb into bed and once I get settled I hear my parents pull into the driveway. I fake sleep long enough for my mom to peek into my room and leave. If I was awake I know she would want to talk and I don't really feel like dying when she smells the beer on my breath.

When she leaves I wait for a few more minutes before I sit up. I know that I won't be able to go to sleep even if I tried, I'm still buzzing pleasantly, not from the beer though, well a little bit but it's mostly from the good party. So I take my sketchbook and touch up the drawing I did of my parents. I'm able to get the love in their eyes and the softness in their lips this time. It's not easy though, it's hard to capture those kinds of emotions in a drawing but I manage to do it.

When I'm done with that I move onto the portrait of Marco. This one is hard too. Capturing Marco's beauty is about as hard as capturing an emotion like love. When I'm done with it I look it over and shake my head. It doesn't do him justice. I sigh and close my sketchbook. I'm starting to feel the pull of sleep. I put my sketchbook underneath my bed and get comfortable. I might be able to make Marco's portrait better after I sleep on it.

* * *

 I wake up to my mom gently shaking me. I groan and pull the blanket over my face.

"No. Need more sleep," I grumble.

"Well it's one o' clock and your grandparents are going to be here in an hour," my mom says.

I sigh. "Alright, alright. I'll get up."

"I'll let you be the first to eat my cookies if you're showered and ready before they get here," my mom says.

I consider this for a moment. "Do I get as many as I want?"

"Why, of course," my mom says and I hear her withdraw to the door. "Hurry up, Jean-bo." 

I hear her go down the hallway and I will myself to throw the blanket off and stumble to the bathroom. As I step under the hot water I realize I have a headache. That's _nice_ , I must have drank a little more than I thought yesterday.

I shower quickly and go back into my room feeling rejuvenated. I get dressed quickly and when I grab my phone I turn it on to check the time but am greeted with a notification that I got a text from Marco.

**From Hot Bodty: Merry Christmas <3**

I can't help the huge grin that that simple message pulls from me.

**To Hot Bodty: Merry Christmas babe <3**

I bound downstairs and kiss my mom on the cheek, stealing a cookie from underneath her.

"Where's dad at?" I ask.

"Right here," he calls from the living room. I take four more cookies with me and sit at the couch with dad. I offer him one and he takes it gratefully.

"I see you and mom were busy with your wrapping," I observe, spotting the new pile of gifts under the tree.

"You know it's our tradition to wait until the very last possible second to wrap gifts," my dad says with a chuckle.

"It seems I've beat you with wrapping presents on time this year," I say smugly.

He smiles. "Guess so, Jean-bo."

I settle into the couch and watch the crappy Christmas movie that my dad is watching. Soon my cookies are gone and I'm rising to get more when I remember the drawing of Marco that I wasn't all that happy with. I rush upstairs and take out my sketchbook again and look at it. I'm not sure where to start with it. I observe it and sigh. I'm going to need a second opinion on this. I consider sending a picture to one of my friends but I'm not sure how much a picture will change how it actually looks. I chew on my nails and glance at the door. Maybe I can show my parents? It's not like they know that I draw though. Fuck it. It's not like it's some dark secret. I'm just bad at it and making a career out of this sort of thing always makes parents concerned and lecture-y. But they don't need to know that it's my life. I could just show them and take the negative comments. They'd be a lot of help. 

I head downstairs and search for my mom or my dad really. They're both sitting on the couch and I take a deep breath.

"Hey, so I need an opinion on this," I say. My parents turn their heads and look at me questioningly. "Well, it's just Marco's present but it was kinda last minute and I need some feedback, fast."

I hand my sketchbook over to them nervously. My mom grabs it and brings it closer to her and my dad. They look at each other with wide eyes and back at the drawing. Fuck, I knew it was bad. 

"Jean," my mom says. I wait for the words. It's bad? They can't even look at it? "It's beautiful."

"Huh?" I say dumbly. 

"This is very good, Jean," my dad says. I blink at them a few times. That wasn't really what I was expecting.

"Where do you think it can get better though?" I ask. My dad and mom look back at the drawing and shake their heads.

"Neither of us know all that much about art but I don't think there's really any place that needs to be improved," my dad says.

He likes it? 

"Do you have more we can see?" my mom asks. I step forward and take my sketchbook back.

"Uh, well there's this one that I drew of you two," I say, flipping to the page and handing it back to my parents.

They take it and smile.

"Jean, you're very good why haven't you shown us this before?" my dad asks.

"Uh," I say. "Well I'm  _not_  good. That's why, pretty much."

"Jean-bo," my mom says. "Of course you're good! We look so realistic."

"Really?" I ask. I lean over a little bit and look at the drawing again. I guess it's okay, but there's still a lot of room for improvement. "If you guys like it so much you can keep it. I was kind of planning on giving it to you anyways cause I couldn't come up with anything better."

"We would love this," my mom says. I take the sketchbook from them again and tear the paper out, not quite believing that they  _like_ it. When I hand it back they observe it a little more and smiling and making more positive comments. I wasn't exactly thinking that this was going to happen. The only reason they stop is because my grandparents arrive.

I feel like I'm in a daze, not quite believing that they thought it was good. My mom approves. My dad approves. Wow.

I have to shake it off though and spend time with my grandparents. It's not that hard though. We exchange gifts and seeing my mom's eyes light up further when she sees the necklace that I bought her is great. My dad is really happy with his map. Gran is happy with the small gardening kit that I got her. She loves gardening which is why I think my mom is so fond of it. I got my grandpa a sweet clock that looks like a record. He was pleased with that.

I got a few games from my grandparents and a book. I recognize it as a book that Marco likes. He only mentioned it once but that's enough for me to remember. My parents got me a new stereo system for my car, which is awesome.

When the gift giving is over we make our customary hot chocolate and I can't help but grin when I think that the first kiss Marco and I shared tasted like this.

It's a peaceful afternoon. My grandparents are great and it's apparent that they are my mom's parents because they all act so much alike. Finally the turkey for dinner is ready and we eat around six. I realize how hungry I am, considering I've only had ibuprofen, a dozen cookies and hot chocolate over the course of the day. I end up having three servings of food by the time my grandparents leave, needing to get home because they're tired.

I help my parents clean up for, like, five minutes before I get impatient and get ready to go to Marco's. I go upstairs and grab my wallet and keys and sketchbook, which I brought up here when my grandparents arrived.

"I'm going to stop by Marco's really quick guys," I say, opening the front door.

"Be careful," my parents call in unison. I roll my eyes but smile and leave for Marco's.

On my way there I keep an eye open for any stores that might be open and might sell picture frames. None are promising but I do come across a flower shop which I drop by to get Marco a bouquet of roses. Call me cliche, but I couldn't resist.

When I get to Marco's I take a deep breath. I rip out the picture of Marco, making sure that the edge is neat. I take a deep breath and get out of the car. I don't think I've ever seen a more intimidating front door. What if he thinks the drawing is stupid? He wouldn't say that it's shitty to my face and I don't know if that's worse or not.

Come on, Jean. You get to see him.

Apparently that's all it takes to bribe myself to rush up to the front door and ring the doorbell. I wait anxiously for a few moments before the door is opened by a tall and thin woman. She smiles warmly when she sees me and I immediately know that she's Marco's mother. They smile the same way and she has his dark hair and freckles.

"U-um is Marco here?" I ask.

She glances at the flowers that I have in my hand and her face softens. "Are you Jean?" 

I nod. Does Marco talk about me? Is that why she knows who I am? Wait, does she know we're dating? What Marco told me yesterday had me believing that she would be less than pleased about Marco and I seeing each other.

"Come inside," she says and steps aside so I can come in. I smile at her and step into the warm house. I get a little excited considering that this is the first time I've been in Marco's house. It smells like good food and gingerbread and the walls are painted inviting colors. "I'll get Marco for you."

She disappears into the house and I'm left shuffling my feet, not entirely sure what to do with myself. Thankfully, Marco comes into view not too long after his mom left.

"Jean?" he says happily.

I smile and spread my arms a little. "Surprise." 

"What are you doing here?" he says. He's smiling so I know he doesn't mind. He gives me a chaste kiss.

"I come with gifts," I say, presenting the flowers with a flourish. He takes them and his smile gets wider. "I wasn't too sure about this one, but I brought it anyways. Even though I couldn't find a picture frame for it or anything," I say handing him the drawing way more shyly than the flowers. 

Marco takes it and his face softens. "Jean, you made me... beautiful."

"But you already are," I say. He meets my eyes. "More beautiful than I could ever hope to capture in a stupid drawing."

"Cheesy," he says and laughs softly. He turns sincere again after that though. "Thank you, Jean. It's amazing."

"Ah, but not as amazing as you my dear," I say. He laughs again. I move a little closer to him, silently asking if it's okay to kiss him here. He nods and our lips brush together. He leans forward and our kiss becomes a little more firm.

"Marco~" someone shouts further in the house.

Marco sighs and pulls away. "I think my little sister is calling me."

"You should probably go to her," I say and peck his lips one more time. "Besides I told my mom I was only popping by for a little while and I should probably go too."

Marco looks disappointed but he nods in understanding. "Bye, Jean."

"Bye, Marco," I say. "I'll call you later."

We pull each other into a couple more kisses before we're able to part for the night.

When I make it down to my car I turn and see Marco watching me with a soft smile from one of the windows. I smile and wave at him one final time before getting into the car.

The drive back is me whistling and being overly cheery. We only saw each other for five minutes and it was enough to make my already good mood sky rocket. But I also think about telling my parents about Marco. I don't want to keep this a secret from them anymore. I did that with my art and they reacted positively, more so than I thought they would. There's also a part of me that wants everyone to know that I'm in... like with Marco.

I pull into my driveway and cut the engine. I sit in the dark interior of my car for a little while. I already know what I'm going to do. I've wanted to tell them about this for a while now. Now all I have to do is psyche myself out. Sitting by myself in the dark isn't doing wonders though so I just suck it up and stride inside. I hang up my jacket and take off my shoes before walking purposefully into the living room. Sure enough my parents are curled up on the couch together and watching TV.

I sit in one of the armchairs and take a deep breath.

"Guys, there's something I need to talk to you about."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you all have a happy holiday! XD


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean comes out to his parents and spends some quality time with them. Marco finally meets them as Jean's boyfriend.

"Guys, there's something I need to talk to you about."

I fidget in my seat and avoid all eye contact. It takes a minute of patient silence on my parents' part, and nail chewing on mine, before I finally lift my head and meet their eyes. I open my mouth. I can do this. It's not hard. I need to speak three words, minimum.

What comes out of my mouth isn't words though, it's air and I can't seem to get anything more out. I slowly close my mouth again and feel panic. I can't do this. What if they don't approve? I love my parents, I want them to be proud of me. What if telling them this doesn't make them proud? After that I would get torn apart. I couldn't choose between my parents and Marco, I care about all of them too much.

"Jean-bo, calm down," my mom says. She's sitting on the arm of my chair. When did she get there? "What is it you want to tell us?" 

"I- um," I say, chewing on my nails again. My mom takes my hand gently and lowers it.

"Chewing your nails has always been a bad habit of yours," my mom says softly. Then I remember. I remember why I'm doing this and why I can't be afraid, why I  _shouldn't_ be. Marco needs this, he needs to know that it really is okay for people to know that we're dating, that there are people who won't think it's a bad thing. Suddenly I feel stupid because I chose to tell my parents this because I knew that they would still love me. Look at the way they look worried for me and the way my mom is gently holding my hand like when I was a kid, telling me that it's okay. It's okay.

"I'm dating someone. A boy. Marco," I say in a rush. I blink a few times as I realize it's finally out there. 

"We know," my mom says. I meet their eyes and it's clear that they're not lying. And it's clear they're not angry or disappointed. In fact they're smiling as if this is good news that they've just received. Not that it's bad news, I guess I just expected a little more shock or drama. "It's written clear on your face how much you care for that boy whenever you look at him."

"He's a good kid," my dad says. "Your mother and I are glad that you found someone like him."

"And he makes you so happy, how could we disapprove?" my mom asks.

I look between the two of them, their genuine, happy expressions and I'm struck with how lucky I am. 

I fling myself at my mom and bury my face into her side. "Thank you," I say. She wraps her arms around me and strokes my hair.

"We still love you, Jean," my mom says.

"And we're proud of you," my dad says. I close my eyes and nod, squeezing my mom tighter. When I pull away from my mom my dad claps his hands together.

"So, is Marco okay to come over on Monday for dinner?" my dad asks. 

"I'm not sure, I'll go call him," I say. I smile at my parents before rushing upstairs. It's okay.

"Hey, Jean!" my dad calls before I can disappear into my room.

"Yeah?" I call back down.

"There's one more Christmas present in your room now," my dad informs me.

"Seriously?" I ask and go into my room. Sure enough on top of my dresser is a twenty-seven inch TV, complete with a cable box. "Holy crap."

I run back downstairs and hug my parents again, thanking them for the, no doubt, expensive gift. They send me off to call Marco with smiles on their faces and I make my way back upstairs.

As I go up the stairs I pull my phone out of my pocket and call Marco's number. I hope he's free right now. His sister sounded really demanding of his attention earlier. That wasn't even half an hour ago. Time again, it goes by so quickly. Like the snow whizzing by my windshield when I drive around in a snowstorm, there one moment and gone the next. 

Marco answers his phone as I close my door and move to flop onto my bed.

"Hi," Marco says. He's whispering.

"Hi," I say quietly. 

"Sorry if I get quiet. Bed time," he explains.

"It's only," I pull my phone away from my ear to check the time. "Wow, ten, I didn't realize it was that late." 

"Yes, oh the bliss of not having younger siblings to worry about," Marco says with a chuckle.

"Are you still with the rest of your family, should I call you back?" I ask.

"No, you're fine, Jean," Marco says. "I'm in bed too."

"Old man, tired this early," I jibe.

"And you're saying all that Christmas food didn't make you sleepy?" Marco retorts.

"Okay, it did make me sleepy," I say. In fact I'm getting sucked into this mattress as we speak. "Hang on a sec." 

I set the phone down and strip down to my underwear quickly. I won't be able to muster the energy to do this later and I don't really feel like being woken up by my pants pinching my balls.

"I'm back," I say.

"What were you even doing? There was so much rustling and you grunted a few times," Marco says.

"I was wrestling a pair of skinny jeans off," I say. "Now I'm naked, well mostly, I still have my underwear on."

I snap the band of them. Marco breathes in a sharp breath and I chuckle.

"I won't be able to sleep at all now," Marco says.

"I'm sure you'll be rewarded with some nice dreams if you do," I say. Marco chuckles and I roll over on my side, draping the blankets over me until, essentially, my entire body is wrapped up in them. I pretend for a moment that the warmth I feel is from Marco. Marco yawns on the other line and that causes me to yawn. "Stop that," I wine.

"'M tired," Marco says sleepily. The sudden threat of Marco falling asleep on me has me remembering that I should tell him about dinner.

"Marco?" I ask. I get a drowsy hum from him. "Is dinner at my place okay for Monday?"

"Yeah, I think so," Marco says.

"Because uh-" I say. If Marco isn't awake after this then there's no hope for him. "My parents really want to officially meet my boyfriend." 

He gasps and I can practically picture his eyes flying open and him sitting up in bed. "What?" he squeaks.

"I told them that we're dating," I say. When Marco's breathing picks up I try to calm him. I would like to hold him but I can't exactly do that over a phone call, unfortunately. "They're happy for us, Marco. They're okay with it. It's okay."

"It's okay," Marco repeats as if it's the most fascinating phrase in the world. After a minute there's rustling, which I assume is Marco lying back down again. Then after another moment Marco giggles. "They're really okay with it?"

"Of course," I say. "They were practically beaming. Said I chose a good one, which is a claim I can't disagree with in the slightest."

He laughs but it's quiet, like he doesn't believe that he's the most amazing person in the world. I'm going to have to get him to believe it one day because it's true and he deserves to know it.

"Marco?" 

"Hm?"

"Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have you?"

"I think it might be my place to tell _you_ that." 

"I'll fight you on this," I say. He chuckles. 

"I'm afraid you're fighting for a lost cause," he says. His voice is getting heavier and his words are a little more slurred now. He's about to go to sleep.

"I really am, Marco."

"I'm lucky to have you too, Jean." 

That phrase warms my heart and makes my chest squeeze with affection and something a little stronger. Even in his slurred and slightly drunk-sounding voice he can reduce me to a fuzzy, blushing, smiling puddle.

Marco's breathing evens out and gets deeper. He's asleep now. I smile and wedge my phone between my pillow and my ear. I close my eyes and listen to him. I should feel a little weird that I'm listening to him breath and feeling happy about it but there's no weirdness and no embarrassment for being slightly creepy. I don't feel weird because he's alive and he calls me his boyfriend and he feels lucky to have me and that's a privilege I didn't think I would get. So yes I listen to him breath as I fall just a little more. Fall asleep, I mean... yeah.

* * *

 I'm woken by my dad lightly shaking my shoulder. I groan and pull the covers up and feel the sharp stab of a corner of my phone on my neck. I should really stop sleeping with this thing, because the number of times I wake up with it digging into my ribs, stomach (and I guess my throat is a thing now too) leads me to believe it's out to kill me in my sleep.

"Get up, Jean-bo. We're going out," my dad says.

It takes me a moment to actually process what he's saying and fling off the remaining fog of sleep. "Where?" 

"To the movies and then we're going to go to your favorite pizza place," my dad says. I can already here him retreating towards the doorway.

"Fuck, yes," I say, still too groggy to watch my mouth apparently.

"Language," my dad calls over his shoulder. I grumble a little more and reluctantly get out of the warmth of my covers. I check the time on my phone only to realize that Marco sent me a text.

**From Hot Bodty: oops i flel aslep**

**To Hot Bodty: r u sure u werent still asleep when you sent that?**

**From Hot Bodty: I was half-asleep thank you very much**

I chuckle and place my phone down so I can speed through dressing. The loss of the blanket is really fucking obvious when the cold is groping me everywhere. Nope, fuck off, you're unwanted.

Once I'm dressed I stuff my phone into my pocket and bound downstairs. My parents are waiting for me, sitting together at the table and sipping at mugs of coffee.

"Are we leaving now?" I ask. They look like they're ready to go out.

"As soon as you eat something," my mom says.

"But I'm going to be stuffing my face with popcorn," I say. 

"That's not a good breakfast, Jean," my mom says. She quirks an eyebrow and gives me that are-you-really-going-to-argue-with-me-about-this look.

"I'll just have a granola bar," I say. My mom nods, my answer enough for her. I head into the kitchen and to the cabinet that holds the snacks and cereal. I grab a granola bar from there, not the double chocolate protein ones though, those are seriously nasty. I think it's more protein than chocolate and that the box has lied to me.

I walk back to the table where my parents are getting up.

" _Now_ can we go?" I ask. My mom smiles and nods. I take a bite from the granola bar and follow them into the foyer. My mom hands me my jacket and I shrug it on. 

"I can drive if you guys want," I say. 

"Thank you, Jean," my mom says.

"Good luck with the snow," my dad says when he opens the door. Sure enough there's newly fallen snow on the ground. Someone shoved all the snow on the driveway to the side already. I think it might have been my dad, he likes keeping busy and he already knew we were going out.

"That's just nice," I grumble.

"The snow isn't too bad, Jean-bo," my mom says.

I think of Marco saying those words. It's definitely something he would say. I smile. "No, I suppose it's not."

My dad tosses me the keys to his and my mom's shared car. He didn't want to get a car for himself since he's gone for long periods of time so he and my mom just agreed to get a shared car. It usually works out, considering my dad works in the day and my mom goes to classes at night.

"Take our car, there's too much snow for yours," my dad says.

"Got it," I say and hop into the drivers side. I start the engine as my parents clamber inside, my dad in the passenger seat and my mom in the back. I back out of the driveway and into the street, heading in the direction of the theater we always go to. "So which movie are we going to see?"

"The Battle of Five Armies," my dad answers.

"Really? Sweet!" I say. I'm half tempted to ask if Marco can come, but I don't think it would be fair to just put him into this meet-the-parents situation early. Besides, I really want to spend some more time with my parents. Just the three of us for a little while, before my dad has to start working again. He doesn't have to travel yet but he does have to go into the office and take care of things.

"You should read the book Jean-bo, it's a lot better than the movie," my mom says.

"But, reading," I complain. "I'll just have Marco tell me about the book, he's probably read it."

"Does Marco like to read?" my mom asks.

"Yeah, he does. He's really smart so, yeah, he reads all the time," I say. I glance at the rear view mirror, preparing for a turn when I realize that my mom's grinning at me. "What?"

"The way you talk about him is absolutely adorable, dear," my mom says. I blush and scratch at my cheek. My parents giggle over my blushing, only making it worse.

"You guys are embarrassing," I grumble.

"We're just observing," my dad says.

"Hey, look! We're here," I say.

"Jean, we just barely left the neighborhood," my mom points out. 

We laugh and fall into easy conversation. My parents stop laughing at my blushing and stammering after a little while and we start to talk about more movies that we would like to see. I'm secretly hoping to see Big Hero 6 again because, damn, that was a good movie, but I'm reluctant to admit it. My mom says she wants to see Big Eyes but that one just creeps me the fuck out, I don't even know what it's about but that doll is enough to make me  _not_ want to see it. 

Finally we're pulling into the parking lot of the driveway and arguing over Kili and Tauriel's romance. My mom is completely against it because she claims it's unnecessary. My dad agrees but I think that they should just be in love, it's not like they're hurting anyone. That opinion gets me a one-way ticket to my mom teasing me about liking Marco so much and our romance making me see everything in a less "grumpy teenager" way. She and my dad renamed us Kili and Tauriel by the time we make it into the theater with a large bucket of popcorn to share between the three of us and some sodas.

We settle in with my mom on my right and my dad in the aisle seat on my left. We got here early because we knew that all the seats would be taken eventually and sure enough as the commercials go on people are still streaming in and now they're starting to have trouble finding seats. When the actual previews that come with the movie start my parents and I whisper amongst ourselves and deliberate over which ones are worth seeing and which one's we'll pass on. 

When the actual movie starts we quiet down, the only sound we make coming from the crunching of our popcorn and the sound of the ice in our drinks whenever we lift them to take a drink. The movie flashes before us, the epic battles and the magic letting us be carried away into their world for nearly three hours. When the movie is over and we slip out into the lobby again we're talking about our ratings of the movie.

"I rate it seven out of ten three hundred page books stretched thin over three really long movies," my mom says.

"Interesting rating scale, ma," I say. We head towards one of the exits and get our coats on to shield us from the cold. "What about you dad?"

"I give it an eight," my dad says. "Jean?"

"Nine if only for that scene with the dwarf shield wall and the elves jumping over them," I say. "Oh, actually eight for the sad amount of dragon." 

"That was disappointing wasn't it?" my dad comments. 

My mom nods. "Definitely not enough fire and destruction."

We laugh and head towards the car again, chattering excitedly over the movie, still having one foot in their world. We drive to Cici's calmly though, with little to no ass-kicking dwarf movies or ring stealing or defying physics, which has to be the elves' favorite pass time.

The pizza place is kind of busy. We load our plates up and go choose a place to sit, sitting at a window seat because no one seems to be occupying those. When we sit down and settle in though, it's pretty obvious why.

"It is freezing right here," I complain, shoveling another bite of pizza into my mouth.

"That would explain why the only places available to sit now are the window seats," my dad reasons.

"I can't wait for spring," I say.

"You get your college acceptance letters then don't you?" my mom asks. 

"Or letters that decline my attendance," I say.

"They would be crazy to turn you down Jean-bo," my mom says. I snort.

"Where did you sign up again?" my dad asks.

"The standard university that everyone that lives here seems to go to and the university closer to us," I say. "And a couple art schools, just in case I wanted to go."

In the fall I saw a couple that caught my eye and I really do love art, but I don't think this self teaching thing is blowing over so well so I thought "what the hell" and sent in an application for each. Only when I actually started thinking about it seriously did I realize how much I wanted to go so I took the application seriously and compiled everything I needed to and then some. 

"You didn't tell me you wanted to go to art school," my mom says.

"Yeah, well, I'm embarrassed by my art and it was just a spur of the moment kind of thing," I say.

"You can't exactly have a spur of the moment decision when sending in applications," my mom points out. "They take a while to make you know."

"Okay, okay," I relent. "I really did want to go, but I thought you guys would be angry or something if I decided to pursue art as my career, especially since I'm not the best artist."

"Jean, you know we'll support you with whatever you choose," my mom says.

I smile. "Yeah, I think I'm figuring that out." 

"And you're not a bad artist," my dad says. "You're very good, Jean." 

I smile sheepishly and nod. "Thanks."

We continue eating in comfortable silence, my attention gets a little diverted from the table and to the cartoon that's playing on one of the TVs in the corner of the restaurant. It's just a clip of Wile E Coyote chasing Roadrunner around. It kind of reminds me of how I was at the beginning of this year. I was Wile E and my hopes and dreams were Roadrunner. No matter what I did I wasn't able to catch it, it always seemed to evade me and leave me in the dust, panting and resorting to some sort of crazy scheme that only made things worse for me. Now I feel like I'm getting closer to catching that roadrunner, I'm not as desperate now because I'm close and I feel like I know what to do now to catch that roadrunner for good.

"Jean-bo," my mom says, bringing back to the table. "I've been wondering this for a little while but how long have you and Marco been seeing each other?"

"Oh," I say, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. "Uh, we'll have been seeing each other for a week tomorrow."

"Really? I thought it was longer," my mom says thoughtfully.

"W-why?" I stammer.

"Well, it's just I started suspecting there was more to you two when you helped me set up the Christmas tree," my mom says.

That was the day before the party, or the day before I realized that I had a crush on Marco. I guess it would make sense, that crush didn't sneak up on me, I was kind of in a subconscious denial phase then, wasn't I?

"I think I know what you're talking about, that conversation was just awkward," I say.

My mom props her chin in the palm of her hand and grins at me. "Do you still think his body is nice looking and muscular?"

"M-ma!" I exclaim and I hide behind my hands. 

My dad laughs. "Did you really say that?"

"I just wasn't thinking straight then I guess," I say.

My mom giggles. "You certainly weren't."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes, even though I doubt my mom could see them. "That was a horrible pun."

"But accurate," my mom says. She and my dad laugh a little more at that. And I stand up, sure I'm blushing furiously.

"I'm going to get desert," I say. I walk off to get some more food. I would like to say that I was annoyed with my parents for poking fun at me but I can't because their jokes aren't malicious and it means that they're really okay with it. 

I go to the desert area and get a couple cinnamon rolls. When I pass the pizza I'm tempted to get another plate but with all the popcorn I had earlier I think it would be best to just have one mountain of pizza instead of two.

I go back to the table where my parents are both chatting happily. My dad kisses her on the cheek when I set my plate down on the table again.

"Jean-bo," my mom says when I seat myself again. "We really _are_ glad that you and Marco are together."

"You're much less of a grump," my dad says. I smile and he steals a cinnamon roll from my plate. He breaks it in half and gives one piece to my mom.

We eat our desert quickly before we're stacking the empty plates that weren't collected and stand to leave. We walk out into the cold and I am assigned driver again. My mom falls asleep in the back on our way home and my dad starts nodding off too. I keep the music low so as not to disturb them and drive back home quietly.

When I pull into the driveway, my dad opens his eyes, having felt the car stop and shakes my mom awake. We trudge into the house tiredly and my mom yawns and groggily announces that she's going to take a nap, my dad follows her, claiming the same thing. I'm not all that tired, I just feel like lazing around so I stretch out on the couch and watch TV. My mind wanders to Marco after a little while and I get the urge to listen to his voice so I wrestle my phone out of my pocket and call him, hoping he isn't too busy. 

"Hi, Jean," he answers after the third ring.

"Hey, babe," I say and stretch.

"Did you just wake up?" Marco asks with a chuckle.

"No, what do you take me for Marco? It's two thirty," I say playfully.

"Hm, you can be pretty lazy sometimes, Jean," Marco says.

"Yeah," I agree with a laugh. "So what are you doing?"

"Just watching over Ace and Adelina," Marco says. "My parents are working and my aunt is visiting some friends that live around here so I'm on babysitting duty."

"Oh, fun," I say.

"Oh, tiring," Marco retorts. I laugh.

"I could come over and help if you need it," I offer.

"No, it's okay I've got it," Marco says. "Besides if you came over I'm pretty sure all I'm going to do is kiss you and I don't think my siblings would appreciate that."

"No?" I tease. "Are you sure they wouldn't appreciate that view?"

"Pretty sure," Marco confirms. I can hear the smile in his voice and I picture him, with the corners of his mouth curled up and his brown eyes smiling along with his mouth.

"I can't wait to see you on Monday," I say.

Marco hums. "I can't wait to see you either." There's shouting on the other line and Marco chuckles. "My sister says that I'm gross for saying something so sappy."

"I think I like being gross then," I say.

Marco laughs softly. We talk for a couple more hours, Marco sometimes setting the phone down to take care of something with Ace and Adelina. He says his sibling have decided to only play video games together today. I can hear them shouting at each other over the phone. So our phone call mainly consists of Marco's sibling yelling in the background and Marco and I being gross, according to Adelina, who has no trouble reminding her brother of that fact every five minutes. It's a nice phone call and I end up focusing all of my attention to the sound of Marco's voice, the TV long forgotten.

We do eventually have to part when Adelina starts complaining about being hungry and Marco has to get to cooking dinner for them. I make kissing sounds before Marco hangs up and he just laughs, finally relenting and making one before we say goodbye to each other.

* * *

 Saturday and Sunday pass by relatively quickly. It was just my parents and I hanging around the house. We went out one time for groceries though. That was a little more exciting than anticipated because I fucked up badly and ended up knocking down  _a lot_ of apples. We ended up buying a lot of apples out of guilt that day.

The nights were occupied with phone calls to Marco. I'm glad I have unlimited minutes because then I would have seriously gone over my limit with how much I spoke to Marco. 

Then it's Monday and I'm running around the house, making sure that it's clean, even though it pretty much is. I don't know why I'm so stressed out, Marco's been to my house before, he knows what it looks like when it's a mess -courtesy of our fort. I think it's just because he's meeting my parents and I want it to go well, even though they already approve of him I guess. I don't know, maybe I'm just stressed because I know Marco will be stressed. But I know that won't do much for him if I'm worried too so I spend the rest of the day trying to calm myself down.

Then the designated time for Marco to come over is here. Six o'clock. And I feel calm again because I realize my nerves were completely unfounded because Marco is amazing and my parents already love him.

When the doorbell rings I shoot up from my chair, feeling nothing but excitement because I haven't seen Marco for three days. My dad chuckles at my obvious eagerness and I pretty much jog into the foyer. I straighten my shirt and swing the door open. Marco smiles at me. His mom dropped him off today because she had to run some errands anyway so I didn't pick him up this time around. I hug him tightly and give him a chaste kiss once he's safely inside and out of the cold.

"Hey," I mumble against his lips. I feel him smile.

"Hi, Jean," he breathes. I pull away and grin at him.

I hold out my hand. "Ready?"

Marco takes a shaky breath and laces his fingers with mine. "I think so."

"Don't be nervous, they already like you," I say, squeezing his hand. "And you already know my mom adores you."

Marco smiles wider, feeling reassured. Most of his nervousness melts off of him as he follows me into the dining room where my mom and dad are laying down the last plates and the last pieces of silverware.

"Marco!" my mom exclaims when she spots us. She sets down the last plate in her hand and comes over to us. She sweeps Marco into a hug and I worry for a moment that he might stop breathing. But then my mom lets him go and holds his arms. "How have you been, dear?"

"I've been good. How have you all been?" he says, addressing both my mom and dad. 

"Good, good, especially since Gerrard has come back from his latest trip," my mom says. She ushers into seats. Marco and I sit next to each other and my parents settle across from us. The plates are already filled with food so we get started with eating immediately. 

"So, how long are you staying before you have to leave again, Mr. Kirschtein?" Marco asks, once everyone's comfortably started eating.

"Gerrard is fine, Marco," my dad says casually before continuing on. "I won't be leaving again for another month or two, fortunately."

"That's great!" Marco says happily.

"Yes, I'll still be working but I won't be in a different country at least," my dad says.

"It sounds like a cool job with all the travelling you get to do," Marco says.

"Yes, it can be nice sometimes but other times I miss my family a lot," my dad answers. 

My mom and dad share a look, one of those private ones that I feel uncomfortable looking at. Marco smiles at me though and I wonder for a moment if we look at each other the same way my parents do. But they have twenty years of marriage under their belt and Marco and I have only had a little more than a week of being together. It might not be completely there yet. I hope Marco and I can look at each other the way my parents do one day though. I hope we can have a romance like my parents have. 

"So, Marco," my dad says. "Speaking of careers, what are you planning to do in the future?"

Oh, crap. He's in business mode. I thought if he liked Marco he wouldn't interrogate him like this.

"I'm planning on becoming a doctor," Marco answers smoothly. "I think I've mostly made my up my mind about being a pediatrician." 

"That's a good career choice," my dad says, sounding impressed.

"That explains why you took an Anatomy class," my mom says. I've told her about where Marco and I met but I didn't actually think she would remember since I only mentioned it once.

"It's where Marco and I met," I fill my dad in.

"You came in as a new student, right?" my dad asks. Marco nods. "I didn't think that it was common to join a new school so late in the semester."

"There were... problems in my last town so we moved here and my parents wanted me to get a feel for my new school before the start of the next semester so I could change my mind about going there if I wanted to," Marco says. I could feel him becoming nervous again and I slowly reach across the space between us and rest my hand, palm up, on his thigh, waiting for him to slip his fingers between mine. When he finally does, he squeezes and clutches at my hand. 

I see my dad opening his mouth, obviously about to question what the "problems" Marco had were. I decide to move the topic away from this. I don't know why, but Marco is clearly uncomfortable. So I say the next thing that comes into my mind, which happens to be grossly romantic. 

"I'm glad you didn't wait for the next semester, I can't imagine waiting to meet you until January," I say. Marco turns his head and smiles softly at me. I forget about being nervous from saying something like that in front of my parents. Because Marco's smile makes it worth it.

"Are you sure you two have only been dating for a week?" my mom asks. Marco and I break our eye contact and look away from each other shyly. Marco runs his thumb up and down my hand. We return back to eating when my parents smile. I try to eat with my left hand because I don't really want to let go of Marco but it doesn't work out because my left hand doesn't have its shit together and struggles to hold a fork apparently. Marco sees my struggle and laughs quietly before letting my hand go.

I frown from the loss but start eating with my right hand. The rest of dinner is occupied with pleasant conversation. My dad dropped the interrogation act and started acting like his real self. I didn't think he would act like he was protecting his daughter from the scary scary boyfriend that came to whisk her away but I guess _that_ happened. But it was a brief event and I'm glad it's over. Marco is more at ease and the conversation is comfortable. We tell Marco about our days with dad, although he's heard most of it from me already. Marco tells a little bit about his siblings when my mom asks about them, remembering a few of the times I've brought them up when I was talking to her about Marco.

When dinner is over Marco and I gather the plates and go into the kitchen to clean the plates. My mom shoos us out of the kitchen though after a moment.

"Go relax in Jean's room, we have the dishes," my mom says to Marco and I.

"Leave the door cracked," my dad says as we pass him. I roll my eyes.

"We won't be doing anything indecent," I say. My dad just chuckles and joins my mom at the sink. They kiss and I shout over my shoulder just to embarrass them, "Get a room!"

They snicker behind us and I rush Marco up the stairs. When we reach my room he looks impressed at the TV that now takes up the top of my dresser.

"Wow, your TV is nice," Marco says. I close the door behind me, but leave it cracked a millimeter. He never said how much I had to leave the door cracked. 

"Yes, it's nice and you've finally seen it for yourself instead of hearing about it briefly on the phone but unfortunately we're not going to be watching TV," I say with a fake disappointed sigh.

"Oh, really?" Marco turns towards me with a lopsided smile. "Whatever are we going to do instead?"

"I have an activity in mind," I say. I step forward and wrap my arms around the back of his neck while he rests his hands on my hips and pulls me closer.

When we first kiss it's slow, and we tilt our heads together, deepening it. I flick my tongue over his lips and he opens his mouth, inviting me in. I groan when our tongues slide together and start pushing him back and onto the bed. We fall onto it in a mess of limbs until we sort each other out. We're both on our sides and Marco's running his hands over my back and ribs, occasionally one of his fingers will get caught on the hem of my shirt and lift it a little higher.

I tangle my fingers into his hair, before moving one of my hands down his back. He sucks on the tip of my tongue and I moan. I move my hand all the way down until I'm grabbing at his ass. He groans into my mouth and I squeeze again. I move from his lips down to his neck, sucking at the base of it, making a satisfying mark. He kisses my eyelids before resting his head on top of mine. I move my hand back up his back again before twisting around. He wraps his arms around me and we fit together like puzzle pieces. He kisses the back of my neck and I grin.

"I guess we can watch the TV a little bit now," I say. Marco tightens his arms around me for a moment before letting me go. I move the pillows out of the way and tell Marco to scoot up to the headboard. I sift around in the drawer of my nightstand and get the remote out. Marco's sitting up and resting against the headboard. I crawl in between his legs and settle into his chest. 

"You're really comfy," I state. Marco chuckles and runs a hand up and down my arm.

I turn on the TV and let whatever's on the channel it turns to play. It's an episode of Supernatural which is cool with the both of us. We sit in silence and watch it for a little while. But Cas's and Dean's eye sex is getting to me so eventually I tilt my head back and wrap a hand around the back of Marco's neck, bringing him down for more kisses.

We spend a while just kissing and my neck is a little sore from the awkward angle that I spent so much time in, but I don't really want to stop. Marco eventually pulls away though when his phone rings. He sighs when he looks at it.

"It's my mom," he says, before answering. "Hey, mom... Yeah... Yeah, okay."

He hangs up and sighs again. "My mom is coming to pick me up."

"No," I whine and turn around. I cling onto his neck and he chuckles. "We've only been together for three hours."

"Sorry," he says.

"I need to get you a car so you can stay for however long you need to," I say. He kisses my cheek and we cling to each other until his mom is calling him again to tell him that she's in front of the house.

I force Marco to stay for another minute, kissing him some more before I allow him to go downstairs and get his coat on. I go find my parents, who are in the living room and tell them that Marco is leaving.

They follow me into the foyer.

"It was nice officially meeting you, Marco," my dad says.

"It was nice to meet you too," Marco says. He smiles and shakes my dad's extended hand.

"I'm sorry he interrogated you earlier," my mom says. Ah, so she noticed too.

"I was just filling in the role of the protective father questioning his son's boyfriend," my dad says. 

"It's really okay," Marco says reassuringly to my mom. He opens the door and is about to step out when I step forward and kiss him one more time.

"Bye, Marco," I say.

He smiles at me. "Bye, Jean."

I watch him until he gets into his car and his mom drives him off. I sigh and close the door finally. My parents are grinning at me when I finally turn around.

I blink in surprise. "What?"

"He's really good for you, Jean," is all my mom says before she and my dad go into the living room, still grinning and whispering between themselves.

 I smile. "Yeah, he is."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like the domesticity is dragging a bit at this point. Sorry about that but next chapter will be a little more interesting, I promise.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curiosity. New Years. Kisses. And taking small steps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the New Years thing is a little late but that's because I am an actual idiot and completely forgot about it and about writing a chapter about it until it was way too late to add it to the last chapter. I was thinking of just letting the New Years thing go but then I was struck with a vision of fireworks and viewpoints and the backseat of cars and I couldn't pass /that/ up. Hope you like it!

"Reiner- Reiner stop fucking laughing," I say. I retreat down the Walgreen's aisle, getting the fuck away from the lube and condoms before someone sees me.

"I'm sorry," Reiner cackles. "I've never gotten a phone call with a greeting like  _that_."

"Stop," I whine and idly look at a rack of chips. "I knew I should have called Bert instead."

I'm at Walgreen's right now, because, well, I'm curious. I've only ever been attracted to girls before I met Marco. And that thought led to some gay porn watching at home, when I was alone of course. It didn't really answer any questions though. I only got hard when I thought of Marco and I doing... that. So I think that endeavor has only gotten me to admit that I'm strictly Marco-sexual. Well that and I got curious about what it would feel like to actually (holy fuck I can't believe I'm thinking this) finger myself. 

"Wait, could you ask what you wanted to know again?" Reiner asks, between chuckles.

" _No_ , you're just going to laugh at me more," I say, drifting over to the refrigerator and looking at the drinks.

"Fine, fine," Reiner says. "We get the water-based kind. Same deal as if you have sex with a girl. It makes everything a hell of a lot more comfortable and there's less friction on the condom."

I splutter. "What makes you think I'm going to be needing a condom?"

"Um, because you greeted me by asking 'what lube do you and Bert use?' and that kind of made me think that you wanted to know because you want to have sex with Marco," Reiner says.

"N-no," I say. "Well, maybe, but not right now. I was just curious because, I watched some gay porn and- and got curious about what it would feel like. So I'm starting off small."

"Oh, so just your fingers?" Reiner says and I can practically hear his smirk. "Or Marco's fingers?"

"I got all the information I need thanks, bye!" I say in a rush and hang up on Reiner's booming laugh. I picked out a Gatorade at some point and am now staring at it like an idiot. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to come here. My phone rings in my pocket and I look at the caller ID. It's Christa. 

"Hey," I say.

"Hey!" Christa chirps. "Are you doing anything tonight?"

"Don't think so, why?" I ask.

"Because it's New Years Eve!" Christa says.

"What?" I look at the calendar on my phone and it is.

"Holy shit, I didn't even realize," I say.

"Wow, Jean," Christa says in a joking way. "Ymir found a nice place to view some fireworks this year so we were wondering if you and Marco wanted to come too?"

"Yeah, I'll ask him," I say. That would be fun. We could kiss each other when it hits midnight and I could see the light in his eyes when he sees the fireworks first blossom in the air. I wonder if he would look as excited as he did when I brought him to look at the Christmas lights, on our first date.

"Okay, text me or Ymir when you find out if you're coming," Christa says. "Bye!" 

"Bye," I say and hang up. I toss the Gatorade up in the air and catch it before walking to the cash register. I have to pass the lube again to get there and I hesitate. I chew on a nail contemplatively. Fuck it. I don't have to use it today or tomorrow or this week or next week, but whenever I _do_ want to use it I'll have it, so why not?

Choosing a brand takes a little longer than I thought and by the time I've found a bottle that seems okay I'm starting to feel really embarrassed again.

When I leave the aisle I grab a bag of chips and hide the lube between that and the Gatorade. I kind of wish I could have just ordered it off of Amazon but then there's the risk of my parents seeing the delivery and questioning what it was. I think that would be worse than some strangers seeing what I'm buying.

I place all my things in front of the poor cashier and wait for them to check me out. I fidget and cannot look them in the eye when they hand my bag to me. Even though they didn't even bat an eye at the lube I can't help but freak out a little bit at the thought of what they know I'm going to be using it for.

When the check-out is done I get the fuck out of there, too mortified to even bear the thought of staying longer. Why did I even do that? I wonder if the curiosity of what it would feel like to do _that_ with Marco is overpowering my ability for rational thought. Do I want to have sex with him more than I thought? 

Wow, this relationship thing is going faster than I thought it would be. After I had that boner incident on that Monday when I figured out I had a crush on Marco, I did entertain the thought of having sex with him on a few occasions. But I never acted on them, well until today. I didn't think my curiosity would be piqued this early though. I've heard of guys waiting  _months_ before they decided that they wanted to experiment with the idea of having sex with their first boyfriend. That's what Reiner told me too. He told me that he was aware of his crush on Bert for a long time before he came to terms with it and took action. He said the only thing that was holding him back was the thought of having sex with another dude and taking it up the ass. Recently- yesterday actually when he was teasing me about having sex with Marco- he told me it was actually really good, which was a piece of his sex life that I was okay _not_ knowing about. It gave me reassurance though, and now I'm even more curious than I was before.

So here I am, in the parking lot of Walgreen's, looking at the plastic bag I have in my hand like it's some mysterious object that I'm enthralled with and afraid of at the same time. All because there is a medium sized bottle of lube inside. And I'm not entirely sure how much that bottle of lube is saying that I want to have sex with Marco. Even though we've only been seeing each other for two weeks and four days.

I think I'm over thinking this, and I'm starting to freak out a little bit. Because it's supposed to hurt isn't it? And it's uncomfortable the first time? And why am I thinking like I _have_ to be the bottom? Fuck, do I  _want_ to be the bottom? Am I the girl? Is that what's happening? 

There's a honk that makes me jump a million feet into the air.

"Dude, what the fuck are you doing just standing there?" a guy says angrily, hanging out of his car window.

"S-sorry," I mutter and hurry to my car. 

I get inside and place the bag on the passenger seat, digging out the Gatorade. I actually process what color it is for the first time. It's red.

I open it and take a swig before screwing the cap back on and driving home.

The car ride is spent with the internal thought process I was having in the parking lot playing on repeat until I park in front of my house. I kill the engine and stare at my front door. Hopefully my parents aren't feeling too inquirable today. I gather the bag up before being struck with an idea.

Just leave the fucking lube in my car. I don't think I want to use it today, so why not? I grab the bottle and place it in my glove box. It's going to be really cold when I next take it out though, and who's to say I won't forget about it? Oh, why am I debating about this? I close the glove box and take the rest of my things inside. Apparently I bought a bag of Doritos. At least I picked up something decent. 

I try to sneak up the stairs when I get inside, but no such luck.

"Jean, where were you?" my mom asks.

"Uh, I left you a note on the kitchen counter," I say, slowly inching my way up the stairs before my mom reveals herself, making me freeze. 

"I know but all you said was you were going to be back soon after you 'go out'," my mom says. She places her hands on her hips. "Do I have to worry about you buying drugs?"

"What? No," I say and hold up my Walgreen's bag. "I just went to get snacks."

I fish inside of the bag and reveal the Gatorade and Doritos. My mom narrows her eyes at me for a terrifying moment before nodding and smiling.

"Alright, if that's all then I'll leave you alone," she says and saunters into the living room. I sigh and relax, feeling like that person in an action or horror movie, who almost had the antagonist find them in their cramped hiding place.

I take another deep breath and head up to my room. Crisis averted.

I open the bag of Doritos and sit cross-legged on my bed. I munch on a few, not really thinking of anything in particular before I remember that my favorite lesbians might have found a nice New Years firework viewing area.

I call Marco on the phone. I like calling him much more than texting because when I call Marco I get to hear his voice. His amazing voice. 

He picks up on the second ring with a cheerful. "Hello, Jean."

"Hey, Marco," I say, smiling upon hearing his voice. "Do you perhaps have any plans for tonight?"

"Hmm, I'm going to have to look at my calendar," Marco says. 

"Really? Because Christa and Ymir have found a great place where we can look at fireworks and I was just wondering if maybe you would like to have a romantic night with me, you know, looking at those fireworks," I say, rolling onto my side and placing the chips on my end-table so they don't get in the way.

Marco hums again in thought. "Yeah, okay, I think I might be able to squeeze you in."

"Is your secretary entering that into your schedule?" I ask.

"Actually a romantic evening with my boyfriend is so important that I'm entering it into my schedule myself," Marco says.

"I'm touched," I reply. 

"So where are we going?" Marco asks.

"No idea," I declare. "Give me a minute, I'm texting Christa right now."

I pull my phone away from my ear and text Christa an affirmation that Marco and I are coming.

"Done, now all we have to do is wait for her reply," I say.

"Great," Marco says and there's a comfortable moment of silence. "My siblings have been asking to meet you."

"Really?" I ask. I've been wanting to meet them for a while now.  

"My aunt too," Marco says. "In my family, she was the most accepting when I first came out."

"That's good," I say.

"Yeah, but it doesn't make me any less nervous about her meeting you," Marco says. I stay silent because I can tell he wants to say more. "I'm just not sure about _any_ of my family meeting you. What if they start calling you disgusting or an abomination, they have a tendency to do that."

I feel myself frown. "Did they call you those things, Marco?"

Marco is silent for a moment. "It doesn't matter anymore. What I'm worried about is if they call  _you_ those things."

I decide to drop the subject of Marco's family calling him disgusting. He won't talk, I can tell that much and I would rather coax it out of him when I can hold him in my arms and make sure he doesn't fall apart. At a time when I can look him in the eyes and tell him how wrong they are and how much he can't believe them because their claims are so far from true.

"I'm tough, I can take it. I don't think they could be much worse than the likes of Eren," I say.

Marco laughs at that. "No, they wouldn't be calling you horse face all the time I think."

"I'm still not sure how he came up with that nickname, I don't look like a horse do I?" I say.

"Rest assured, Jean. You look like a majestic stallion," Marco says.

"Thanks, Marco," I say dryly. 

"No problem, babe," Marco says. 

We laugh together for a little while before my phone buzzes with a notification. It's Christa, telling me the place where we should be going.

"Apparently we're going to a viewpoint," I say. 

"Oh, interesting," Marco says. I can't help but think about what people usually do in viewpoints, at least in the romance movies that my mom tends to watch. Stop it, Jean. I don't think I'm going to lose my virginity in the back of Freedom.

"Interesting is right, it's going to be fucking cold," I say.

"We don't have to get out of the car, we could just observe through the windows and keep the heater blasting through the car," Marco says.

"That sounds nice," I say. "How much are we actually going to be looking out the windows though?"

Marco laughs and I blush. That might have sounded like I was joking but in my mind the leather of the seats and the ceiling of my car was what I was thinking of looking at. I need some holy water to bathe myself in.

"When are we going?" Marco asks. 

"We should be there by eleven forty five is what Christa says," I explain.

I hear an adorable humph from Marco. "That's far too long for me to wait to see you."

"I agree," I say. "So when do you actually want to come over?"

"Ten maybe?" Marco suggests. "Maybe nine? Eight? Seven? Six?" 

It's nearly five o' clock right now.

"How about six? And then you can have dinner with us?" I ask.

"Sounds good," Marco says.

"Okay, just give me a sec," I say. I get out of bed and go into the hallway. When I reach the top of the stairs I shout over the banister. "Hey, ma! Is it okay if Marco comes over for dinner?"

"Yes, Jean!" my mom shouts from the living room. I walk back into my room.

"It's all good with my mom," I say.

"I know, I could hear you two," Marco says with a chuckle.

"We're a loud family," I say. "Wait until you hear my dad when he laughs. I swear he starts earthquakes."

"My dad too, I think that might just be a dad thing," Marco says. He's talking about his parents. He never does that. I want to hear more. They can't be all that bad if they raised someone as amazing as Marco, right? 

"Tell me more about your parents," I request.

Marco's silent. "Why?"

"You just never talk about them," I say. "I'm just trying to figure out why I guess."

"They're trying to be okay with this whole gay thing but sometimes they ask when I'm going to settle down and have kids. I know I can have that with another guy but they make it seem like they expect me to have that with a woman," Marco says. "So they're trying but they're really not okay with their son being a fag." 

"Marco," I say. "I'm sorry." 

"Don't be," Marco says curtly. He sighs. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so angry."

"But you were angry weren't you, Marco?" I ask. I can hear nothing on the other line other than the faint sound of Marco's breathing and I take that as affirmation. "It's okay to be angry sometimes, Marco."

"Jean, is it okay if I come over now?" Marco asks abruptly.

"Yeah, I'm coming to get you right now," I say. I get up from the bed a second time and grab a light jacket from my closet and a pair of socks from my drawers and head downstairs. "Do you want me to stay on the phone?"

"No, it's okay, Jean," Marco says. "I'll see you in a little while."

"See ya soon, Marco," I say. Once we hang up I shout into the house. "Ma! I'm going to pick up Marco now!" 

"Alright, dear, be safe out there, it might snow today," my mom says. Once done with getting my shoes and jacket on, I go outside and thankfully the skies are only a light grey color and not actually heavy with snow and, most importantly, not shedding any snow.

The drive is long and I spend all of it worrying over Marco. That was such a sudden shift in his usual mood. It's my fault though, I will admit. He was just fine until I prodded for some more information about his parents.

What he said, about him feeling like they're only tolerating him makes me wonder just how much his family is okay with him being gay. I just don't know how bad it is for Marco.  I don't know how being unaccepted, unloved because of who I am feels like. So I can't understand what Marco is feeling and the only thing that I'm coming up with is that it must hurt, a lot, and he must feel lonely when he's at home.

Lonely again. Each time I find that Marco might be lonely I feel surprised. When we first met I got the feeling that he keeps everyone at arms length. I was right because as our relationship progressed he told me he didn't have any other friends other than me and my friends. He's never mentioned who he knew before he moved here either. In the friend category he's alright now though. He's told me as much. He's said that he's happy with all the people he's met.

And now he might be lonely because his family is unaccepting of him and who he is. I haven't had that before and it makes me want to switch places with Marco. He doesn't deserve that. He deserves a mom like my mom, a dad like my dad. He deserves the grandparents who accepted me with hugs and hot chocolate when I told them I was dating another guy. He deserves all of these things and I'm just now realizing that he might not have them.

I pull up in front of his house. I forgot to call him and tell him how close I was. So I get out of my car and trudge up to the front door. I ring the doorbell and there's the sound of stamping feet coming down hardwood stairs. Marco swings the door open and smiles at me.

"Who's that, Marco?" a voice asks.

"It's Jean," Marco calls back. The statement is met with silence. "I told you I'm going out with him tonight. We're leaving now."

There's more silence and Marco sighs before stepping outside with me. I don't understand their relationship. I'm pretty sure that was his mother, her voice sounded like the voice of the woman who answered the door when I came around on Christmas.

He closes the door and heads to the car. I trail behind him and when he reaches for the door handle I gently hold his hand.

"Marco," I say. That's all it takes to have him swivel around and hug me. I wrap him up in my arms and squeeze. "No one will get you here, Marco."

Marco buries his face into my hair before gently extracting himself from my arms. "Thank you, Jean."

"What for?" I ask.

"For being here, for being amazing," Marco says.

I smile at him. "You're pretty amazing yourself."

We kiss each other, forgetting about the nipping cold for just a moment. Marco breaks the kiss and rests his forehead on mine.

"Ready to go?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say and we move away from each other. Marco gets into the passenger seat and I slide across the hood of my car to get to the other side.

The car ride home is silent and I hold Marco's hand the entire way. 

When we go inside of my house my mom greets the two of us with smiles and ushers us into the dining room. She made dinner early because she knew Marco was coming over. It's spaghetti with some garlic bread and we all dig in. My dad isn't here because he has to work but that doesn't stop the pleasant conversation mixed in with the clack of forks against plates. After dinner is done and everything is cleaned up I grab Marco's hand and go upstairs with him in tow.

"I recorded a Harry Potter marathon that we can watch," I say when we enter my room. 

"I think that sounds amazing," Marco says and flops onto my bed. I trail my eyes down his torso appreciatively and linger on the strip of skin that his shirt reveals. And is that... yep that's his happy trail. I tear my gaze away before I pop a boner or something and get the remote out of the nightstand and sit behind Marco, against the headboard. Marco drags himself up next to me and I drop my head onto his shoulder immediately.

I get the recording of the first movie started and settle against Marco's side a little more. I don't know when I stopped paying attention to the movie -I think it was right at the beginning- and started tracing the freckles on Marco's arm. I slowly trace up his arm until I reach his biceps, where I start making shapes with his freckles guiding me along. I look up and he's staring at me with this expression that a month ago, I would have thought impossible to be directed towards me. I'm still not entirely sure if that expression is real or whether it's the works of my imagination.

"When did I get so lucky?" I murmur.

"Probably around the time I got really lucky too," Marco says. I hum and crane my neck up until our lips meet. It's a feather-light touch and it's brief. But it leaves my lips tingling as much as when we're rougher.

When we separate I keep my eyes closed for a few more seconds before I finally open them, revealing his smiling face. He reaches up again and drags his thumb over my cheekbone and I smile and lean into the touch.

I'm struck again with just how beautiful he is and my fingers itch for a pencil and paper so I can try and copy it down, even though I have a feeling that I might not ever be able to capture Marco exactly.

"Hang on a sec," I say and withdraw from his hand. I reach down underneath my bed and toss aside a pair of sweats that got under there at some point before I can get to my sketchbook. "Wow I haven't drawn in a while," I think out loud.

"Are you going to right now?" Marco asks.

"I have a beautiful model right next to me, no way am I passing up this opportunity," I say, flipping to a blank page. This one is getting full, I need to buy a new one soon.

"I'm your model?" Marco asks.

"Nah, I was planning on using my pillow as a beautiful model," I say, getting started on the sketch. "Of course you're my model you nerd." 

"Oh," Marco says. "Do I need to pose or something?"

"No, you can just keep watching the movie," I say, scratching some more lines over the paper. 

"Oh, okay," Marco says, returning to the movie.

I sketch the beginnings of his face and shift in the bed until I'm sitting cross legged, the sketchpad in my lap. Marco keeps flicking his eyes back to me and I smile at him.

"Is this modeling gig making you nervous?" I tease.

"I'm just not used to being stared at this intently," Marco says.

"Did you pay attention to me at all the last few days before break?" I say with a chuckle.

"Oh, I did," Marco says. I smile without taking my eyes off of the paper in front of me. I tap my pencil against the paper and observe the face that I have so far. I tweak a few things here and there, making Marco's sketched face a little more accurate. From there I move onto his torso and legs. He keeps changing where his feet are though and it's making this a little harder.

"Quit squirming, babe," I say.

"Sorry," Marco mutters. I move my eyes back up to his face and smile. I set my sketchpad down and crawl over to him until I'm sitting in his lap.

"Are you nervous?" I ask.

"Maybe a little bit," he answers.

"Do I need to kiss it out of you?" I murmur, closing the distance between us.

"I would love that," Marco answers. Again, we're kissing. It's slow but deep. Marco's arms wrap around my waist and pull me in closer. I gasp into his mouth, shifting so our mouths fit together just a little better. We get caught up in each other for a little while before one of those annoying moments when the quiet movie transitions to a blasting commercial.

"We should probably turn that down," I say when I'm finally able to bring myself to stop kissing Marco.

After I turn the volume down, Marco says,"I think I'm a little less nervous about being a model now." 

"Awesome," I say and settle myself back down to where I used to be.

I get started on the sketch again. When I've got all the forms down I allow myself to drink up more of Marco than before. Now I can stare at him unabashedly and copy down what I see. Or at least try to. For the life of me I can't capture  _Marco_ and I let out frustrated huffs every once in a while. Each time I do so, Marco smiles at me and I can calm down and keep working. 

The hours slip by and Marco starts the second movie as I keep drawing him, trying to get him just right. I've moved on from the sketch at this point and have started working on the details but I want to get this so right, I make sure to place every perfect freckle on his body in the right place. I scoot closer until our legs are brushing and I hold up the sketchbook to the side of his face, gnawing on my pencil in contemplation.

I go back to my work and lose myself in, well, Marco. The drawing of him, Marco himself.

"Jean,it's almost time to go you know," Marco announces.

I blink. "What, seriously?" I look at the clock on my nightstand and realize that it is a quarter after eleven. "Wow."

"I didn't think I would get you out of your trance with that," Marco says with a grin. I frown, vaguely recalling a few times where he's spoken to me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to ignore you," I say. 

"It's fine," Marco says. "You look cute when you concentrate. And you looked especially cute when you smiled at random times."

"I was smiling 'cause I was thinking of you," I say and kiss him sweetly. "We should really get going or we're going to miss the fireworks."

Marco smiles and we hop out of my bed. I turn off the TV and we're stomping downstairs.

"We're leaving for the fireworks now," I say into the house, not entirely sure where my mom is. And my dad too because he should be home now.

"Bye, boys," my dad says from the living room. "Call us if you need anything."

We get our shoes and coats on quickly before rushing out into the cold, nearly-midnight air. The night is surprisingly snow free. Maybe the fireworks won't be ruined by the weather.

I have to hurriedly drive to the viewpoint that Christa told us about with Marco holding my phone and playing navigator. And I am proud to say that Marco manages to get us at the viewpoint a few minutes after the designated time and with no u-turns. That's an achievement I don't think I've ever gotten when navigating by myself. 

I see Christa's small frame come out of Ymir's car and walk over to greet us when we pull up into a parking space a few spaces down from them. I leave the engine of my car running as we step outside. 

"Hi, guys!" Christa says.

"Hey," Marco and I say in unison.

"You and Connie and Sasha were the only ones who came, besides us," Christa says.

"It _is_ obscenely cold out," I point out.

"But fireworks," Christa pouts.

"I know, which is why we came prepared with a heated car," I say, patting the hood of my car.

"Well we still have ten minutes until midnight," Christa says. "But I think we might just be spending the countdown separated from each other. I don't think anyone's standing outside for that."

"Guess not even Connie and Sasha," I say. "They haven't even come out of their car yet."

"Ah, actually it looks like they're keeping themselves warm in their car," Christa says. I chance a glance at the familiar car in a secluded corner of the lot. It's rocking a little bit and I shudder, not from the cold though.

"I don't think we're going to be seeing them tonight," Marco observes.

"I don't think so either," I agree. I see Ymir come out of her car and stride towards us.

"How can you guys stand out here for so long?" Ymir asks, once she's successfully hooked her arm around Christa's shoulder. "I'm already freezing my tits off."

"It's because you refused to take something thicker than this hoodie," Christa says.

"Can we _please_ go back to the car," Ymir says.

Christa looks back at me, like she wants our permission before she goes off. I smile. "We release you."

Christa smiles and starts running off with Ymir before she says over her shoulder. "Oh, the show is a little less than ten minutes long, so it's not a  _complete_ waste of time."

I laugh and wave at Ymir and Christa. Marco and I get back into the car thankfully. We have coats but the heater is always welcome. I turn off the headlights and we're plunged into darkness. There's no light except for the handful of stars that have struggled their way in between the clouds.

Marco and I unzip our coats and wrestle with the arms until they're off. Marco sits back and looks at the clock on the dashboard. It's eleven fifty-one now.

"So what are we going to do for nine minutes?" Marco asks. 

I hum in thought. "Making out is a _great_ option."

Marco laughs. "I've always loved your blunt honesty."

"Is that a yes I'm hearing?" I ask and shift in my seat. I bite my lip and raise my eyebrows, waiting an answer.

Marco groans. "When you bite your lip like that it's definitely a yes."

I smile and shift in my seat until I'm facing him. I lean forward and we meet halfway. My hands immediately go to the back of Marco's head and my fingers tangle themselves up in his hair. His hands frame my face and our lips touch. It isn't much other than a brush against each other at first. Then I flick my tongue out and over the seal of his lips, asking silent permission. He opens his mouth and thus our make-out session begins.

I forget about the time completely and for the second time tonight I lose myself in Marco. In his cute little gasps that he lets out whenever I nip or suck at his bottom lip. In his hands that caress my face and neck. In his breath and his taste and his smell. All of it.

And when the first boom goes off we nearly jump through the roof.

"Fuck," I say and clutch at my chest. "That scared the shit out of me."

Marco giggles but his attention is already on the fireworks outside the windshield. 

"We can get a better view if we go outside," Marco says.

"Yes, but then we have to wrestle with our coats again and I really don't want to do that," I say.

"Please?" Marco asks and pouts his lip and pulls out the goddamn puppy eyes.

I huff. "Fine. But only because you're so fucking adorable."

We step outside and get our coats on and zipped when we reach the hood of my car. I lean against it and Marco follows suit, our arms squished together. I twine our fingers together and look up at the sky. The fireworks pop and come to life in front of the gray backdrop of the clouds. It's a pretty sight and I look over at Marco to see his reaction. He's smiling and his face is illuminated with the colors of the fireworks. I might be sounding repetitive at this point but I don't care because Marco is so fucking beautiful. I will repeat that phrase until I go to my grave and maybe even after that because it's so true.

And that's when I realize that I am in love with him.

What a cliche that I'm realizing this with the sound of fireworks going off in the background. When I can't bring myself to look away from Marco's face. It's a stupid cliche and I'm so fucking glad that I'm experiencing it. 

I kiss his cheek and his neck and his cheek again. Moving to the corner of his mouth before pulling away. He looks at me in surprise and then his face softens into a smile.

"What was that for?" Marco asks.

"Nothing, I just wanted to," I say. His smile widens a little bit and he kisses me again. This time it's a little more forceful, and he immediately licks into my mouth. I groan and wrap him in my arms, bringing our bodies closer together until we're touching completely, from the hips up. I subconsciously rut against him and he moans. Fuck, I can feel myself getting hard.

Marco can't yet apparently because he's pushing back with his hips. I gasp into his mouth and pull back, blushing furiously. Marco looks confused for a moment and then his eyes widen in realization.

"You're hard," Marco says.

"Well gee, you don't have to say it out loud," I say and try to laugh it off. Marco scrutinizes me some more and I drop my gaze. "It's not the most endearing thing when half of me looks like a marshmallow, huh?"

"It- it's okay," Marco says and pulls us together again. "I can take care of it if you want."

My eyes widen and I barely manage to stutter out. "N-no. I-it's okay r-really."

"I'm okay with it if you are," Marco says. I blink rapidly and I doubt I'd even be able to formulate words at this point so I just nod instead. Marco gets to kissing me again, roughly, making me just a little harder. 

"Backseat?" I manage to gasp out. He nods and I move to the passenger side and fold the chair back. Sometimes this is mildly annoying but right now it's the bane of my existence. I let Marco in first and he kicks his shoes off before setting his feet up on the backseat so he doesn't trail snow on the leather. He shucks off his coat quickly and I follow suit after closing the door, also toeing off my shoes in the process. I sit on Marco's lap and he kisses my neck before lifting me up by my hips. I have to crane my neck because of the ceiling but with Marco's lips trailing over my naval I can hardly bring myself to give a shit. 

I don't think I could picture a scene like this one if I could. Marco kissing the top of my hips, with the sound of fireworks going off outside. And the light from those fireworks lighting up the interior of my car and Marco's face with whatever color pleases them. Pink, yellow, green. They all paint the scene and make it feel even more surreal. 

Marco's fingers fumble with my button and zipper before he's pulling my jeans down just enough to mouth at my boner, hidden away by my briefs. I try to keep my whimpers down as he continues his ministrations. But all bets are off when he tugs my underwear down and my dick bobs in front of him. Marco doesn't fuck around for a second because the next moment his tongue is licking up my shaft.

"Fuck," I moan. Marco gazes up at me through his eyelashes before moving his mouth away from me.

"This is okay?" he asks.

"Hell yes. More than okay," I breathe. He fucking  _smirks_ at me before he puts the head of my cock into his mouth and I lose all capacity of thought. Everything that I have been told about blow jobs seems insufficient to explain how fucking  _good_  it feels. Marco's tongue swirls around what is inside of his mouth and he presses the tip of his tongue into my slit. My thighs shake with the effort of not bucking into him. But his mouth is so warm and his tongue is doing _insane_ things to me. I don't know if I can keep my hips from moving forward. 

Marco, as if sensing my thoughts, brings his hands up to my hips and holds them still. He slowly works his way down and the way his lips look wrapped around my cock drives me insane. It's so lewd and so _hot_. 

Marco pulls my pants down some more until they're  _well_ out of the way. His hands make his way back to my hips, only to have one of them go backwards and squeeze at my ass. I moan and move back into the touch. It takes a moment for my hazy mind to comprehend that I want his fingers a place that's a little more... intimate. We could do it, the lube is still in the glove box. Then Marco's head bobs up and down my shaft quickly, making the thought fly out of my head completely for a moment. I moan and hold his shoulders.

"W-wait, Marco," I say. He looks up at me and pulls all the way back with a pop. Wow.

"Jean?" Marco asks.

I force myself to focus again and, why hello there embarrassment my good old friend. "U-um."

"Is something wrong?" Marco asks with concern, his hands rub at my thighs soothingly.

"I-is it too much to ask for-" I close my eyes and force myself to talk. "To ask for your fingers."

Marco blinks up at me. "I don't have any lube, Jean. It'll be uncomfortable without it."

"I know," I say. "There's some lube in the glove box. I bought it earlier today at Walgreen's. And I definitely didn't think I would be using it so soon."

"You're rambling, Jean," Marco says. He squeezes my thighs and smiles. "I'm okay with using the lube." 

"O-okay," I say. I reach across the car clumsily and open the glove box. I reach around until my fingers wrap around the familiar bottle. The bottle is a little cold but not as freezing as I worried about when I first stuck it in there. I bring the bottle over and hand it to Marco. He opens it patiently, while I fidget nervously.

"Are you sure you're okay with this, Jean?" Marco asks.

I nod. "If it's with you, yes."

"Spread your legs a little more," Marco says. I obey and drop one of my feet onto the floor of the car. The position is a little uncomfortable but I think I'll forget about it soon. Marco coats his fingers with lube and tugs my underwear down with his dry hand. I help him and they're pushed down so they're out of the way. Marco reaches around and I feel his hand easing it's way to my asshole. Holy shit, this is happening.

The first time he touches my entrance I jump forward at the unfamiliar feeling before forcing myself to relax and move back again. Marco looks up at me to make sure it's okay and I nod. He massages my hole with his finger, slicking it up. I groan. It feels nice to be touched there actually. Then Marco's first finger goes inside of me and I shudder. It's a weird feeling and I'm not entirely sure if it's a good weird or a bad weird yet.

Marco stops pushing into me after a little while and just holds his finger there, waiting for me to get used to it. He licks at my cock some more and I gasp. It takes my mind off of the finger currently inside of my ass and I'm finally able to relax. Marco puts my dick into his mouth again and starts moving his finger again. The feeling of his finger and his mouth is damn near overwhelming and I let out a halting moan.

Then Marco's finger really starts working and I focus back there. Marco starts wiggling his finger around, prodding, as if he's looking for something. I focus back onto his mouth on me again. I can't focus on both areas of me at the same time.

I moan as he hallows his cheeks and  _sucks._ My thighs are shaking again. I'm partially aware of Marco's finger, that is until he thrusts his finger into me and suddenly I'm fucking seeing  _stars_. 

I shout and my hips go back onto his finger, searching for more. I feel Marco's lips stretch in a smile that my dick kind of ruins since his mouth is still very much _on it_. 

"What was that?" I pant. Then Marco thrusts his finger into the same spot and I think I black out for a moment. Fuck, it's so good. I basically fuck myself onto his finger, in my want for more. My moans get significantly more frequent. "More," I find myself saying. "More."

Marco bobs his head a few more times before pulling off. He smiles at me.

"I'm putting in one more finger, okay?" he says. I nod frantically and wait not so patiently for him. He moves his finger around my entrance a little bit before slipping it in.

"Oh, fuck," I groan under my breath. I lean forward until my forehead is leaning against the window. My mouth is hanging open and there is constant noise coming from it as Marco thrusts his fingers. I feel my climax fast approaching and my hips stutter back onto him. He's not even sucking on my dick anymore and I think I'm going to come.

He puts his mouth back on the head of my cock and crooks his fingers against that _spot_ and that's it.

"Marco, fuck, I'm coming," I say. He sucks on my dick some more and I try to pull back only to have him hold me still. I shout as I come into his mouth. He sucks everything up and swallows. I pant harshly. That had to be the best fucking orgasm of my life.

Marco takes his fingers out of me. I grimace at the feeling of that. Marco pulls my underwear and jeans back up and I shakily button my jeans before falling back onto his lap. Then I belatedly realize that he's hard. 

"Shit, Marco," I say. I move my hand down until it's hovering over his erection. "Is it okay if I-"

Marco shakes his head. "You don't have to."

"I'm okay with it if you are," I say with a smile. 

Marco chuckles and hesitantly, shyly, nods. I lean forward and give him an open mouthed kiss, slowly moving my tongue over his. I can taste myself in his mouth, it's bitter and a little weird, honestly.

I blindly undo his button and zipper and pull his jeans and underwear down once he lifts his hips for me. I move down to his neck and suck on the base of it before grabbing his cock. I begin pumping, using the pre-cum on his tip as a lubricant. He lets out a breathy moan and lifts his hips, searching for more friction. I adjust my grip a little bit and hold onto him a little harder and that gets a long, deep moan from him. I think this is the grip I need.

"I'm not going to last very long, Jean," Marco says.

"I'm that good, huh?" I tease before continuing licking at his neck and collarbone.

"I think it's more the sounds you made earlier were enough to make me cum," Marco breaths. I moan just to torture him and feel his dick twitch in my hand. I chuckle and start moving my kisses down his chest, down to his naval. I lift his shirt and lick at the skin there and Marco sighs. Then I'm moving down to his dick and have to force myself to keep moving because his cock is bigger than I thought and it's a little intimidating.

I press, hot, open-mouthed kisses up his length until I've gotten to his tip and lick the pre-cum off of it. It's bitter but I push that to the back of my mind and prepare myself for what I'm about to do. I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing so I model my mouth to look like Marco's and from what I've seen in porn . I cover my teeth with my lips and put his head into my mouth. His skin is hot and salty. I don't really know what to do from here so I move my tongue around and lick around him.

I continue going down slowly and when a little less than half of him is in my mouth I hallow my cheeks and suck. I hold Marco's hips down as he subconsciously bucks up so I don't gag. I remember something I saw in a porn video and move my hand to the part of his dick that isn't in my mouth and start pumping there.

Marco gasps. "Jean, I'm gonna cum."

I only move my mouth up a little more but keep my tongue and hand moving. Then he's coming into my mouth. The taste is definitely stronger than when I was just kissing him, but I don't mind because the _sounds_ that Marco is making and trying to stifle are amazing. I swallow what he gives to me because I really wouldn't know what the fuck to do with it otherwise. I pull off of him and kiss his cock a couple of times before helping him put his pants back on. I collapse onto him and he gathers me up into his arms.

"The fireworks stopped," Marco points out. He's right. The pops of the them are gone and it's dark without their light. I wonder if everyone else is here and when I peek out into the parking lot it's empty.

"And everyone left," I say. I cuddle into his hair and sigh in content. He kisses my hair a few times before pulling me in closer and crushing me against him. And I almost let it slip that I love him. But it's too soon, so I'll keep it to myself for now and wait patiently.

We kiss lazily for a while before my phone buzzes. 

**From Ymir: im assuming ur done now and i would like to say that u should really invest in some tinted windows**

I blush at the realization. And show my phone to Marco. "I think we were caught."

Marco laughs. "I don't really care all that much."

"I would have to agree with that," I say with a chuckle. Marco hums and shifts around a little bit. "Is this getting a little uncomfortable for you?"

Marco nods. "I don't think your car is made for two guys to lie down in."

"You're probably right," I say and move off of him. I attempt to crawl to the front seat. It's fucking challenging, but the folded passenger seat makes it a little easier. Marco laughs through my entire struggle. When I successfully get into the driver's seat Marco goes outside and gets into the car like a normal human being after we work together to get the chair back in place.

"So where to, Marco?" I ask. "My house? Or maybe my house?"

"Are you inviting me to a sleepover?" Marco asks. 

"Definitely, I'm not ready to let your cute ass go home," I say. Marco smiles at me.

"Let me just tell my mom," Marco says. He takes his phone out and texts her, his smile slowly disappearing.

"Does she..." I say. I've been wondering for a little bit, I guess I could ask him but I don't want to get him angry.

"She does know we're dating, I told her on Sunday," Marco says to my unasked question. He stuffs his phone on his pocket and I take his hand and kiss it.

"Sorry," I say.  

"It's alright, Jean," Marco says. He kisses me before pulling away and smiling again. "We should probably hurry home before your parents start getting suspicious."

"Yeah," I say and put the car into reverse and flick the headlights on. It was running the entire time we were in here so I don't have to start it.

We go home quickly. And hustle inside. My mom greets us in the living room. She and my dad are watching How to Train Your Dragon. My mom's always a sucker for Pixar movies.  

"It's cool if Marco's stays the night, right?" I ask. 

"Of course," my mom says. "But Marco, dear, I think it might be best if you sleep in the guest room."

"That's okay," Marco says. No, Marco, it's not okay. What about lazy morning hand jobs or kisses?

"Would you two like to watch this with us?" my dad asks.

"Yeah, okay," I say. I might be a sucker for Pixar movies too.

Marco seats himself next to my dad, so he would be in between me and my dad. I lie down and rest my head in Marco's lap, draping my legs over the armrest. Marco automatically cards his fingers through my hair. He strokes my hair and I get that warm, tingly feeling in my scalp whenever Marco does something with my hair. I don't really watch the movie so much as focus on Marco's fingers. Soon I start drifting off a little bit.

Next thing I know the lights are being flicked on and I squint. I smile when I see Marco's face looking down at mine.

"Hello, beautiful," I say and yawn.

Marco chuckles. "Bed time?"

I drape my arms over his neck. "Carry me."

"Come on, you can get up yourself," Marco says and nudges me gently. I groan but flop off of the couch and get on my feet. Marco stands up and I lace our fingers together immediately.

"You didn't come with any clothes," I realize. "I can give you a pair of sweats and an over sized shirt that I keep around to sleep in sometimes."

"Okay," Marco says.

"Night, boys," my mom says. I turn my head, realizing that my parents are still in the room. They're smiling at us and I smile back.

"Night guys," I say and drag Marco upstairs with me.

"Goodnight," Marco says.

When we get into my room I hand over a pair of sweats that might fit him. I think I'm starting to realize that he is a lot more muscular than I am. I hand him my shirt that says"Achievement Unlocked: Left The House." It should fit him. It's a couple of sizes too big on me.

I sweep Marco into a kiss, resting my hand on his lower back and the other on his cheek. He kisses me back slowly before we pull away from each other.

"Where exactly is the guest room? I've never seen it before," Marco says.

I groan. "No, you're really going?"

"I don't think your parents would ever let me stay the night again otherwise," Marco says.

I sigh. "I guess you're right."

I grab his hand again and bring him to the room that's right next to mine.

"Goodnight, Jean," Marco says.

"Goodnight, Marco," I say and kiss him before retreating back to my room. I sigh and throw all of my clothes off except for my underwear before burrowing into my blankets. My sketchbook is still on here so I set it on the ground gently before wrapping myself up in blankets and going to sleep.

* * *

I wake up to Marco's sweet voice whispering into my ear. His breath puffing down my neck.

"Wake up, Jean. Jean. Jean~" Marco says.

"I'm up," I mumble. I try kissing him but only get the corner of his mouth. I slowly open my eyes and Marco's smiling at me.

"You're cute," he states.

"You're cuter," I say and coax him into bed with me. He wraps an arm around my waist and burrows his head underneath my chin.

"I was sent to get you so we can eat waffles," Marco says.

"As great as that sounds I would rather cuddle with you," I murmur, already feeling myself begin to slip back into sleep.

"Don't fall asleep again," Marco pleads.

"No," I say adamantly.

Marco huffs and starts kissing me. He dips his tongue into my mouth and I'm rolling over and dragging him with me so that he's on top of me. I start kissing him back and feel myself slowly start to wake up. He pulls away from my lips and licks at my neck, pecking it here and there. I sigh.

"Okay, I'm definitely awake now," I say.

"There's more of that if you get up," Marco says persuasively.

"Fine," I relent. I get up and Marco leaves my room so I can get dressed. I throw on a shirt and a pair of sweats before going into the kitchen where the waffles are stacked high on a serving plate. 

"Morning, Jean-bo," my mom says.

"Morning," I say, stretching a little bit. "Where's Marco?"

"He went to get dressed," my mom says. I frown. I really wanted to see him in my clothes. I wasn't exactly paying attention to what he was wearing when he came to wake me. "And your dad is still sleeping. He had a long day yesterday so we're just going to let him sleep."

"Okay," I say and reach for a strawberry, only to have my hand smacked away.

"Those are for the waffles," my mom says.

"Oh, do we have whip cream too?" I ask.

"Yes we do," my mom says. I make a beeline to the refrigerator and find the treasure. I shake it and spray some into my mouth. "Jean!"

"But it's one of those things that you just _have_ to do," I say and offer the can to my mom. "Try it."

She stares at me like I'm crazy before taking the can and copying my actions. I laugh and she nods.

"I think you might be right for once, Jean-bo," she says.

"Jean's right about something?" Marco asks, now in the kitchen and wearing the clothes he had on yesterday.

"Haha," I say. "We were just talking about how awesome it is to have whip cream straight from the can."

"I've never done that before," Marco says.

"Marco, my dear, you have been missing out," I say and take the can from the counter, where my mom placed it when she was done. I toss it to him and he catches and just kind of looks at me like I'm an adorable idiot.

"Go on. Try it, Marco," my mom says. Marco glances at the can before shrugging and spraying it into his mouth. He brings it down when his cheeks are puffed out and swallows with a grin.

"That was pretty awesome," Marco says and hands the can back to my mom.

"Yeah," I say quietly. I focus on the bit of whip cream that's on the side of his mouth and then Marco fucking  _licks_ it away. I think I need to sit down.

"Alright, let's have some waffles," my mom says. She smacks the newly made waffles onto the tower and walks to the dining table. Marco and I take some plates, silverware and glasses for the three of us. I grab the orange juice and set it onto the table along with the rest of the stuff.

We dig in and it's so tasty. I put copious amounts of whip cream onto the waffles and some strawberries. Marco just puts on some syrup and my mom does that weird thing and puts peanut butter and syrup on hers. It's mostly quiet through our meal and I reach across to brush my hand against Marco's thigh or his arm, just because. There's no motive behind it, I just love it when we touch.

Breakfast is over after nearly an hour and we go up to my room.

"Can we watch some more Harry Potter movies?" Marco asks.

"Well, _you_ can, I'm going to draw you some more," I say. I grab my sketchbook and we settle on my bed, against the headboard like we always do. I rest my head against his shoulder and start drawing while he watches Harry Potter. He loops his arm around my shoulders and traces nonsensical patterns onto my bicep. When the movie is done Marco sighs and turns the TV off. I'm still touching up a few things but look up at the movement.

"My mom told me that I was supposed to come back before one," Marco says. "She needs to run a few errands and wants me home before she leaves, my aunt might not come back in time so I'm on babysitting duty."

"Can I babysit too?" I ask. "You've been teasing me with your talk about your siblings. I want to meet them."

Marco hesitates. "Yeah, okay."

"Really?" I ask and sit up.

"Really," Marco says and chuckles. "Come on."

"Wait, let me actually get dressed," I say. Marco smiles and goes outside. I pull on a pair of pants and throw a sweater on before going downstairs. Marco is waiting downstairs with my mom who is talking with him leisurely.

My mom turns up to me with a smile. "Ready, dear?"

"Yeah," I say. I brush Marco's arm as I pass him to get my shoes. I put on my shoes and hop up, to a waiting Marco. "Bye, ma."

"Bye, Catherine," Marco says. And we're stepping outside and going into my car. I feel a little excited to be going to Marco's house. I've never gone past the foyer. 

We're pulling up in front of Marco's house at twelve-thirty. I jump out of the car faster than Marco and am on the passenger's side before he can close his door. He laughs and takes my hand.

"I didn't think you would be this excited," he says.

"I'm going to meet your siblings, of course I'm excited," I say. Marco kisses my cheek before bringing me up to the door with him. He unlocks it and we're going inside. The foyer is small, just like I remember it, with a set of stairs on the right, set against the wall and a hallway that goes behind it and another hallway to the left.

"I'm home!" Marco says into the house. "I brought someone with me."

There are thundering footsteps that come from the hallway to the right and Ace and Adelina are there in front of us.

"You're Jean," Ace says.

"Yeah, you remember me?" I ask. 

"You were the one in the car," Ace says.

"And you were being gross with Marco on the phone," Adelina says. 

"We weren't being gross," I protest.

"You were totally being gross," Adelina says and walks back down the hallway with Ace trailing behind her. Marco chuckles and grabs my hand before following them. He's smiling at me and I smile back and then we're in the living room. Marco turns his head and his smile drops. I follow his gaze to see a woman sitting on an armchair, the same woman who greeted me with a soft expression on her face on Christmas. That same woman is looking at me with a penetrating gaze.  Marco drops my hand and twists it into the hem of his shirt.

"Mom," Marco says. "Uh, this is my... friend, Jean."

"So you're the one who's been seeing my son," Marco's mother says.

I draw myself up straighter and nod. "Yes, ma'am."  

"You were the one who was at the door with the flowers. I thought they were for your girlfriend," Mrs. Bodt says. I don't know what to say and I chance a glance at Marco. But there's no support from him. He's stepped to the side and I feel alone under his mother's stare. And I realize how much this woman has ingrained her thoughts into him subconsciously. Her presence has made him crawl back into the closet. He can't even call me his boyfriend. Marco. The one who holds my hand and kisses me in public and doesn't mind cuddling in front of my parents. Marco, the one last night who said he didn't care that my friends had caught us giving each other blow jobs, is gone. In his place is a gay son who is terrified of being unloved by his parents because of who he is. 

I love my parents, so much. I love them because they've always loved me and always will and I  _know_ that. But here is Marco, with a mother who he loves just as much as I love my mother, not sure whether or not his mother still loves him. This love for his mother is becoming destructive and pushing Marco to become something he's not. Pushing him to be the closeted boy who can't bring himself to call me his boyfriend. I want to reach out to him, to at least anchor him with my hand but I know, at this moment, that is the worst possible thing I could do.

"Well, since you're here Marco I'm going to go to run my errands now," Mrs. Bodt says. She stands and strides toward us. When she reaches me she forces out a tight smile and extends her hand towards me. I take it and she shakes it curtly before pushing past me. "It was nice seeing you again, Jean."

"It was nice seeing you too," I say before she can escape around the corner. She stops for a moment before continuing her path to the foyer. I can hear her rustling around there, gathering her things and preparing to leave.

"You look like you saw a ghost, Marco," Adelina says. Marco comes back and I almost reach out to him but withdraw my hand before I can touch him. I don't want him to shy away or get startled. Marco looks down at my lowering hand and up to my face before pretty much tackling me into a hug. I wrap my arms around him and hold him, pressing my face into his hair.

"I'm sorry, Jean. I couldn't tell her you were my boyfriend," Marco says. "I couldn't do it. Not when she was looking at you that way."

I shush him and squeeze him. "Don't apologize baby. It's okay."

I hear the front door slam shut and I can't remember if we were talking loud enough for Marco's mother to possibly hear us or if we were whispering. I was too concerned with Marco to pay attention. 

"You're Marco's boyfriend?" Adelina asks. Marco moves off of me and smiles at his siblings.

"Yes," Marco says.

"Told you they were boyfriends," Adelina says to Ace. "You owe me a dollar."

Ace groans and reaches into his pocket before handing Adelina the money. Ace's attention gets diverted though and he looks towards me and Marco with a confused scrunch of eyebrows.

"Why was momma so tense, Marco?" Ace asks.

Marco's gaze drops to the floor and he shakes his head. "Grown up stuff, Ace."

"Grown ups get upset over the weirdest things," Ace says thoughtfully before turning to his Lego's that are sprawled over the floor.

"They really do," Marco whispers. I can see the hurt in his eyes and it's something I wish to never have to see on Marco's face again. But with the way his mother reacted I don't think that's going to happen. The least I could do is make it hurt less for a little while. I brush my knuckles over his cheek and he closes his eyes before letting a small smile onto his face.

"Thank you, Jean," Marco says.

"Anything for you, Marco," I say.

He gives me a chaste kiss before we properly enter the living room. He sits on the couch and pulls me down next to him. I smile at him and lean into his chest when he hooks his arm around my waist and tightens his grip there.

"You guys are definitely gross," Adelina says.

"We're totally not gross," I say.

"You totally are," Adelina states.

"That's Mario Kart right?" I ask, pointing to the screen on a menu screen. "How about we have a competition."

Adelina perks up at that and raises an eyebrow, looking strikingly similar to Marco. "What do you have in mind?"

"If I win at Mario Kart, you stop calling me and Marco gross, even when we cuddle," I say. "But if  _you_ win you can call us gross however many times you want."

Adelina considers this for a moment before nodding. "Okay. You're on."

Marco laughs. "I wouldn't do that, Jean, she's a menace." 

"We're playing on Rainbow Road," Adelina says and hands me a controller. 

"Okay," I say. The game starts and we go off into the multicolored roads set in front of us. Adelina gets a power up and throws a red turtle shell at me, causing me to fall off the road. She chuckles.

"That was  _so_ unfair," I say. We make our way around to more power-ups and I gain one of those star thingies which allows me to catch up with Adelina and knock her off.

Adelina frowns at me with anger. "I'm going to get you back for that."

Adelina gets pulled up and deposited onto the road, shooting off immediately.

I fly off of a corner and have to bite back the curse on the edge of my tongue. This is why I don't talk to many small children, my language is definitely unsuitable for them. Especially, when I'm playing a map like Rainbow fucking Road. 

Ultimately, I fall off of the map twenty million times and Adelina ends up royally kicking my ass.

"You and Marco are gross!" Adelina exclaims in victory.

I laugh and relinquish the controller. "Alright, kid you got me."

"I told you she was a menace," Marco says.

"I know," I say. "Can't believe I had my a- butt handed to me by an eight year old."

I huff and lean against Marco again.

Adelina points to me. "Gross."

"Look what you've subjected us to," Marco says.

Marco and I laugh and we settle on the couch together. I feel a little older than I actually am, being wrapped in Marco's arms and watching the kids play. Maybe I would want this with him one day. It would be nice to have a stupidly domestic life with Marco. It would be really nice.

"Do you ever want to have kids?" Marco asks, as if reading my thoughts.

"I never really thought about it before," I say and smile softly. "Maybe one day. How about you?"

"Yeah, I think so," Marco says and kisses the top of my head.

The front door opens and Marco tenses but he doesn't move his arm.

"You don't have to, Marco," I say, alluding to his arm around my shoulders.

"I will," Marco says. "I'm tired of being afraid of what they're going to say."

I smile at him and he kisses me. I let him, even though I don't want it. He's forcing himself, but if it makes him feel a little more comfortable it might be okay.

"You're gross," Adelina states.

"Who's gross?" an unfamiliar, feminine voice asks from the entrance of the living room. "Oh."

Marco pulls away from me and smiles at the woman over the back of the couch. He's acting casual but I can still feel the tenseness of his arms and his chest where my hand is resting.

I move away from Marco, but keep my hand on his arm. "Hello."

The woman is friendly looking and her hair is dark like Marco's. Her eyes are warm and blue.

Marco takes charge of the introductions. "This is my aunt, Mina, Aunt Mina this is my... b-boyfriend, Jean."

 _"Oh,"_ she says and walks over to the couch. "I've heard so much about you."

I stand up and smile at her, extending my hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"You're Marco's boyfriend, we're practically family, give me a hug," she says and opens her arms before giving me a short hug. Marco chuckles at that and I see the tenseness melt off of him.

"Marco why were you so tense?" his aunt asks. She smiles and sits next to him. "Your other aunt might be being a bitch but she loves and _I_  love you, Marco. Nothing will change that." She hugs him and pulls back. "And I am super excited to have finally met your boyfriend."

Marco smiles and draws me back onto the couch with him once his aunt withdraws and goes to kneel on the ground and play with Ace. Marco and I only touch with our hands and knees and it feels right. This is comfortable and it isn't forced like that kiss was when Marco's aunt first showed up.

"Thank you, Jean," Marco says.

I don't know what he's talking about. I don't understand why he keeps telling me thank you. But I think it might be my support this time around. I don't want to ruin it by asking why though so I just smile at him.

"Anything for you, Marco."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so just a heads up, next chapter is going to have a massive time skip by, like, a month. Also, there's going to be porn every chapter from here on out. Woo! Okay that's all, thank you for reading ^_^


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dash of angst, a cupful of fluff and a splash of smut!

The thing about happiness is that it never lasts. Sometimes I think that it rarely shows up for the ones that deserve it the most. 

Over the past month since I went to Marco's house for the first time, Marco has been coming over to my house more and more. He calls me in the middle of the night when he can't sleep nearly everyday. And I don't mind any of these things. I don't mind falling asleep to the sound of Marco's breathing at two in the morning or lying with him everyday. I don't mind when he stays the night and I wake up to him walking around my house in his pajamas and bed-head. I don't mind going to school together on these mornings. I don't mind it at all. But the reason that he's been doing these things has been weighing heavily on my mind. Ever since I met his mother properly, when she  _knew_ we were dating, I've been trying to get more info on his home life but he doesn't tell me a thing, unless it's about his siblings. And I love when he talks about them, but they aren't the ones hurting him and I don't know who to blame or how to fix it. 

His aunt has gone back home now and I worry that he's lost the last adult support he has in his family. I haven't even  _seen_ his dad or heard any mention of him other than that one time when Marco told me had a booming laugh. 

I guess I'm worried that he's lonely. Lonelier than he's been in a long time. It seems to disappear when he's at my house, when he talks to my mom or I hold his hand, reassuring him with a physical touch or a whisper or two that  _I'm there_. I'm not even sure I would have realized his loneliness was there if it wasn't for the traces of it, heavy in his voice when he talks to me at night and when he tells me he misses me, even if I dropped him off just a couple hours prior. He just sounds like there's something wrong when I'm not there with him, or when my parents aren't greeting him home from school like they do with me, like he's their son. And those moments that I'm not with him make me worry. Because what is he being subjected to back at his house? 

"Jean, baby, what's wrong?" Marco asks. I smile at that. On a lighter note, he's taken to calling me  _baby_ over the past month. I fucking love it. Especially when it's a whisper of _Jean, baby_  when I jerk him off or give him a blow job and make him cum.

"Nothing's wrong," I say softly and take his hand. If I tell him what's on my mind he'll deflect and make it about _me_. I don't want him making sure that _I'm_ not stressing. I want him to confide in me, I want him to take some of the weight off of his shoulders and share it with me. But he hasn't yet and I know there's no use in pushing it. 

There's a squeak at the neighboring table and the girls sitting there are practically _beaming._

"You two are just _so_  cute together," one of them says. 

"You definitely make Anatomy class a lot less boring," another one pipes up. I don't know how we do that exactly. We just stare at each other a lot, according to our friends. I guess I hold his hand and drag my thumb over the back of it but that's about as racy as we get in this class. Sometimes we don't even give more to each other than a few brushes on each other's arms or thighs. Nothing too intimate because we're in fucking class. 

Marco smiles brilliantly at the girls and we return to our work. Our arms reach other for each other subconsciously and we end up with our arms resting right next to each other and then we're smiling at one another and staring again.

"You know," Connie muses. "I feel like we're in the middle of some  _private_  Anatomy lessons that go on between the two of you sometimes."

"I'm sure they have better Anatomy lessons when they get home," Sasha says and wiggles her eyebrows at us. We blush and look away.

"Sasha, you're a fucking pervert," I mutter.

"I'm just teasing," Sasha says. Connie and Sasha snicker together before finally leaving us alone and returning to their work. Marco and I give each other one more shy smile before forcing ourselves to focus for the rest of class. 

When the bell rings we're getting up and getting ready to leave. I'm ready before Marco is and wait, perched on my desk. People filter by us and push through the doorway until we're one of the last few in the classroom. Marco slings his backpack over his shoulders and smiles at me, a signal that he's ready to go, and also because he smiles a lot. He makes me smile a lot too.

We walk through the door together and turn to the right, towards the secluded staircase. I spread my fingers, waiting for the familiar feeling of Marco's hand slipping into mine. When it comes I smile softly.

The walk to Marco's classroom is silent, save for the sound of people talking down the hallways. When we reach outside of his door we stand off to the side of the hallway, against the wall right outside of his classroom. I reach forward and start playing with his fingers, tilting my head until it's resting against the wall.

Marco copies my stance and says, "You smile so much now. I love it."

"And I didn't smile a lot before?" I ask lightheartedly.

Marco shakes his head. "When we first met, you always seemed to be a little unhappy."

And you're unhappy now, Marco. Tell me why. Let me make it better.

I shrug. "Nothing exciting really happened to me back then and I wasn't too optimistic about my life getting any better."

"It got better right?" Marco asks. He's grinning and leaning forward, occasionally glancing down at my lips.

"It definitely got better," I say and _finally_ close the distance between us. I kiss him softly and slowly, cupping one of his cheeks in my hand.

I pull away from him and smile before dropping my hand down to continue playing with his fingers. He nuzzles into my hair and sighs, relaxing a little bit. We stand there until the warning bell rings and Marco pulls away.

"You should go to class," Marco says and withdraws his hands.

"Hang on," I say and peck him on the lips one more time. "Okay, now I'll go." I take a step back and say, "Wait." I step forward again and give him another kiss before grinning and forcing myself back again. "Okay, I'm done now. Bye!"

Marco laughs. "Bye, Jean."

I walk to class and the time in school that I have now labeled as the "Marco-less hours" begins.

* * *

Lunch rolls around and we're all gathered around a table in Subway. The same one that we went to when Marco first came to this school. I love going here, it's so nostalgic and it makes Marco happy. It's the first place we really spent a lot of time getting to know each other. It's where our relationship really kicked off. We liked each other when we first met in Anatomy class, but we got close here and decided that we were definitely going to keep each other around. 

"You two get ridiculously cuddly whenever we go here," Armin points out.

"We do not," I say as I press into Marco's side and basically lean into his chest. Marco laughs softly and presses a kiss onto the top of my head and I sit up straighter, lacing our fingers together, before I start eating again.

"I sincerely apologize to all of you if Sasha and I subjected you guys to this in the first couple of months of our relationship," Connie says.

"I need to date someone," Armin laments. 

"How about them," Sasha says and points to a random person in the store. We don't even know them, they look like they're in college or something. 

"No, I'm good. I think I have a better chance by myself than with you playing matchmaker," Armin says. 

"Excuse me?" Sasha says, faking offence. "Let me out of this booth. I'll get you laid  _tonight."_

"Please don't," Armin says. We all laugh at that, except for Sasha who pouts some more. She forces Armin to give her a hug and an apology before she drops her act.

"So how would you feel about Connie and I setting up a party for you two when you hit your two month-iversery?" Sasha asks.

"That's not for another two weeks, Sash," Marco points out. 

Sasha shrugs. "I'm the designated party planner, it's my job to plan these things."

"I think we're okay," I say.

"Oh, I see," Sasha says and gives us a knowing smile. "You'd much rather spend it _alone_. Wouldn't you?"

"Sasha, seriously," Marco and I say at the same time, blushing like idiots.

"Ymir told us _everything._  We know what you two do when you're alone," Connie says. "Unfortunately."

"Are we still bringing up what Ymir saw? That was a month ago!" I say. Ever since Ymir sent that mass text out to our _entire_ friend group about what she had seen Marco and I doing in the back seat of my car on New Years they have never let us live it down.

"We're going to bring that up until the end of time. You guys get so flustered it's hilarious," Sasha teases.

"You guys are cruel," I pout.

"Oh and here comes Jean's pouting," Connie says.

"This is the cherry on top," Armin adds. They're all banding against us. Someone help me.

I clutch at Marco's arm and bury my face into his shoulder to protect myself from the onslaught. It's up to you now Marco.

"I think you broke Jean," Marco says with a chuckle. My friends laugh.

"Okay, I think we should stop now," Armin says, the blessed voice of reason. But then he laughs again before clearing his throat.

"You guys are going to have to remind me why I'm friends with you," I say, finally bringing my face away from Marco's arm.

"'Cause you love us," Sasha states with a smug grin. I grumble but don't say anything to indicate otherwise. 

Marco rubs circles onto my knee for the rest of the lunch hour. It's nice to be touched by him just because he wants to, with no ulterior motives behind it. At the risk of sounding like a sap, I think those are my favorite touches between us. We just like knowing that the other is there and I do it to reassure myself that I'm not dreaming and this is really real. I can't fathom how I came to deserve Marco but I'm glad I got that lucky.

I really love him. I haven't gotten around to actually telling him. It was too early when I first realized it and now it's just a courage thing and for some reason every time I'm about to tell him I can't. It might be because it's true. It will be the truest thing that I have ever said in my entire life and putting it out there is scary.

"Jean, what about you?" Sasha asks. "You've never actually talked about that before I think."

"What?" I ask, coming back into the conversation.

"What are you going to do for college?" Marco says patiently.

"Oh," I say. I look towards Marco and see the curiosity in his eyes. We've never actually spoken about that before. I guess we were too busy in our relationship bliss to worry about something as intimidating as college. "I've signed up for a couple of art schools that I really want to go to. And the college that _everyone_ seems to go to has a good fine arts program. So, yeah." 

"I signed up there," Marco says.

"Really?" I ask. Marco smiles.

"Yeah, I did that early application thing, so it's set in stone," Marco says.

"Hm," I say thoughtfully. I never thought about going to college with Marco. Sure the thought crossed my mind a few times, but nothing really heavy. We could live in the same dorm and wake each other up for classes. Or we could live in an apartment and drive to campus together. We could stretch out on the floor and study together, books and limbs everywhere. That would be nice. But there's also art school and we wouldn't be driving to the same campus if I'm going somewhere else, hell we might even live together. But I think I want to exclusively study art. I don't know if I want to dick around with the whole college thing. I just want to work on my art, Math and English don't fit into that circle but I'd have to do that if I went to a normal college.

"Don't think too hard, Jean. You might hurt yourself," Sasha says.

"Haha," I retort.

"College got you down?" Connie asks. "Man, I know I'm not ready for that."

"Me neither," Sasha says.

"No one's ready for it," Armin adds.

I groan. "Why do we have to choose what we want to do for the rest of our lives at eighteen?"

"Because society sucks," Armin says with a frown.

"We don't even  _have_ to but for some reason everyone thinks we do," Connie says. There's a collective groan at the table and we all slump down into our seats just a little more.

"So you're really becoming a doctor Marco?" Sasha asks. Marco nods.

"How long's that gonna take?" Connie asks.

"I want to be a pediatrician so that's going to take about," Marco pauses for a moment and counts under his breath. "Eleven years."

"Holy shit," I say. Marco huffs and drops his head onto my shoulder.

"I know," he groans.

"Well, good luck with that buddy," Connie says. Marco smiles.

"Thanks, I'm going to need that," he says. I wrap my arm around his side and take a few more bites of my sandwich.

Lunch passes relatively quietly. I think because everyone is pondering college. It's coming up soon and it's this giant intimidating shadow looming over us, ready to pounce and consume our souls. I think that might be a slight exaggeration but that's pretty much what I've seen on the internet. It's really not helping with this college dread to be honest.

"What do you guys want to do after college?" Armin asks.

"I think if we think  _that_ far ahead into the future we're going to implode," Connie says. We laugh and everyone agrees that this is probably a fact.

We finish up lunch and head off outside. It's more or less nice out today. Although there are still gray clouds swirling overhead and threatening to get heavier through the course of the day. 

"It might snow today," Marco says, gazing at the sky.

Connie whoops. "Snowball fight!"

"Snowmen!" Sasha says.

"You guys are really positive," I say.

"What happened to the times when you didn't complain about the snow?" Sasha pouts.

"That was for, like, a week where there was minimum complaining on my part," I say.

"Are you starting to doubt the beauty of the snow?" Connie says and scoffs. "I can't believe you, Jean." 

"I've been working on it," Marco says. "He'll see someday."

I laugh. "You were just complaining about it the other day, Marco."

"It was cold!" Marco argues. "My bed is right next to a window so it can get cold sometimes. And _because_ it was snowing it was cold, so yeah, I complained a little bit."

I know about that which is just why I'm teasing him. I've been into his room a couple of times for a brief while. Both of those times were the only times I ever went to his house. Both times his parents weren't there and he wanted help with babysitting because his siblings were being rowdy.

"Maybe if you ignored the cold for a little bit then the snow wouldn't seem too bad again!" Sasha suggests cheerfully.

"That's kinda hard when it's there nearly all the time when I'm at home," Marco points out.

"Come on! Where's the happy, optimistic Marco I knew!" Sasha says. Marco laughs.

"I'm still here," Marco says.

We jump into Connie's truck together. Sasha sits shot gun and Connie drives. In the back is Armin, me and then Marco. We lace our fingers together. I mostly just listen to my friends chatter excitedly about the snow. They list everything we could do in the snow and how pretty it is when it falls down and when it finally settles but then they also mention that they like to walk through it and see their footprints behind them as they move forward.

When we get to the school again we hustle inside. Armin, Sasha and Connie part with us with a happy goodbye. Marco and I move off to one of the walls, getting out of people's way.

"I don't want to get to class," I complain. "Can't I just spend the next two hours with you?"

Marco chuckles. "We'll see each other after that. And then we have a few hours all to ourselves."

I smile and press a kiss onto his lips. "Are you going to be staying the night?"

Marco sighs, pulling me closer and looping his arms around me. "I can't. I've been given strict orders by my parents to be home no later than seven."

"Are they monitoring you?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"No, they're just going on a trip to Shiganshina. My grandparents want to see my siblings," Marco says. "And they want me to be home before they go off."

"You're not going with them?" I ask.

"No, and that's because _I_ didn't want to. And even if they told me to stay it would be because they're worried," he says. "They talked to me about it a couple of weeks ago."

"Why would they have to be worried?" I ask.

"People can be assholes about this kind of thing," Marco says, hugging me tighter. "They can be really horrible."

I don't say anything to that and just hold him and kiss his hair. I wonder if anyone would do something to Marco just because he was gay. I can't really picture it though. Marco's kind and wonderful, I can't wrap my head around someone beating him up or something for a stupid reason like him being gay.

"We should get to class," Marco says. He pulls away from me and smiles. "I'll see you after school?"

"Definitely," I say. We kiss slowly one more time before we leave to go to class.

* * *

"I- I love you too, Jean!"

I snort at the cheesiness of that line and erase the dialogue from my sketch. I was drawing Marco again, waiting for the bell to ring so we can go home. My mind wandered to a scenario in which I told Marco that I loved him. This thought resulted in this sketch of Marco, blushing furiously, telling me that he feels the same. He looks a little angry about it though, yeah this isn't my best job. I mean, I got this all mostly done before class even ended. The bell hasn't rung yet. Yeah, it's pretty shit, I'll try and improve it later.

I glance at the clock and there are five minutes left. Feeling disappointed with my art and being generally impatient with school ending drives me to pack up and leave the library early. I head to my locker, having a little bit of time to kill and sort through it absently, looking for anything I  _might_ need. 

I end up grabbing my jacket and a pencil, successfully wasting three minutes looking like an idiot. I head down to the cafeteria and wait around with all the freshman and sophomores who have this hour off and aren't allowed off of campus before school ends. I head to our usual table but there are people sitting there, playing a card game so I seat myself a table down. It feels a little off and I think I need to reevaluate my life if I'm that attached to a seat in the school cafeteria.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and check the time. Still two more minutes. But considering the time it took me to get here it should be... there it is. One more minute now. I'm starting to think I get bored easily. 

I sigh and stuff my phone back into my pocket and wait not-so-patiently for Marco to get out of class. It's Friday! I want to get home and hang out with Marco in the privacy of my own house. My parents might be there but at least in my bedroom we can be a little more intimate than here in school.

The bell finally rings but I'm subjected to another couple of minutes of waiting before Marco reveals himself. He weaves his way through the crowd that slowly grew over time and I stand up, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. He approaches me quickly and smiles.

"Hey, baby," he says softly before giving me a chaste kiss. There's a disgusted noise from the table behind us. I would have just brushed it off if it wasn't for the way that Marco tenses, like someone's going to hurt him. I almost turn around to yell at them until they speak.

"We're not going to get this game done if you keep making stupid moves," they say. Marco slowly relaxes and finally laughs.

I step forward and hug him. "It's okay."

"I know," Marco replies. He pulls back just enough to kiss me. "If I'm with you, it's okay."

I smile at him and brush away his bangs. I kiss his cheek before I tug on his arm.

"Come on, Freckles. I want to get home so I can kiss you some more," I say. Marco chuckles and takes my hand in his, signaling that he's ready to go with me.

The drive home is uneventful and most of it is occupied with Marco telling me about his short and angry teacher who scoffs a lot and how he was in a particularly bad mood today. I cling onto every word he says because, well, it's Marco. I could listen to him all day. Hell, I'd listen to him if he read the phone book.

Finally, we're going inside my house, greeting my mom and trekking up the stairs and into my room.

I drop my backpack onto the floor and fall onto my bed. Marco flops down right next to me and we curl up together.

"School is tiring," I state.

"I know baby," Marco says. We move further up on the bed together and wrap each other in our arms. We start to doze and I lazily kiss at whatever area I can reach on Marco. His collarbone, his chest, his shoulders.

"You're beautiful," I say.

Marco chuckles. "You tell me that everyday."

"It's 'cause it's true," I mumble against his chest.

"You're pretty good looking yourself," Marco says. "Sexy."

"Sexy?" I say and lift my head, trailing kisses up his neck and over his jawline.

"Oh, yes," he breaths. I finally reach his lips and I kiss him. I roll over until I'm on top of him. His arms immediately go around me and one of his hands rests on the small of my back. His other hand trails down until he's caressing my ass. I sigh into his mouth and start moving my hands underneath his shirt. I trail up his stomach slowly, feeling every one of his muscles before my hands diverge onto his side. I don't really pay attention to where my hands are going until the tips of my fingers brush over Marco's scar and he jolts.

I've only brushed against it once before, when I first found it and I've seen it when we've had make-out sessions where we took our shirts off. I don't look at it for too long and I don't touch it because I know it makes Marco feel uncomfortable. 

"Sorry. Accident," I say. I kiss the corner of his mouth and move my hand away.

"Jean," Marco says before I can kiss him again.

"Yes?" I ask, pulling back to look at his face. His eyes are closed and he looks to be in a different place. A not-so pleasant place.

"Can I just hold you?" he asks. He still hasn't opened his eyes and looked at me yet.

"Alright," I say. I kiss his cheek softly before lying on my side next to him. He wraps his arms around me and rests his forehead on the back of my neck, breathing out slowly. He's shaking just a little bit. I want to ask him what's wrong but I don't know if that would cause him to shut me out. So instead I rub his arm and whisper soothing words to him. "You're amazing for wanting to become a pediatrician."

Marco snorts. "I'm not that amazing."

"You are," I insist. "You're perfect, like a freckled angel." I think about that for a little while before whispering experimentally. "My angel."

"You're not going to start calling me that are you?" Marco whines.

"Now I am," I say. Marco laughs lightly behind me and I know that he doesn't mind the nickname at all. I take his hand that's draped over my hip and bring it up until I can kiss it. We lace our fingers together and I feel myself start slipping into sleep. It's nice to be in Marco's arms, feeling like there's nothing in the real world that can touch me. I feel Marco's leg work its way in between mine and I smile.

He starts relaxing against me and his breathing evens out and deepens and soon I know he's asleep. His shaking has stopped finally.

I make a note to never touch his scar again.

* * *

"Bye, Jean" Marco says and kisses me.

"Bye, Marco," I reply. Marco sighs and kisses me again before getting out of the car. His time over at my house was spent mostly sleeping. My mom woke us up before she went off to her classes and told us that dinner was on the table. This was a few minutes before Marco had to leave so we just got ready and we left soon after my mom did. I kind of felt bad for leaving my dad to eat by himself but he waved us off with a smile.

I watch Marco go up the steps of his house before stepping into his home. Like the first time I dropped him off his mother comes into view before the door closes and hugs him. That lights a spark of hope in me that things are starting to look better between the two of them, maybe the rest of his family too.

I pull away from his house and head home, pondering Marco's and his parents' relationship. He said that they were just worried about him but he still doesn't let me talk to them. I don't know and I'm beginning to think that there might be a lot of things that Marco is hiding from me.

When I walk into my house I've managed to worry myself into exhaustion. Even though Marco and I slept for nearly three hours all I want to do is lie down. Maybe after I have some dinner though, because it smells amazing.

I go into the kitchen and find a pot of stew, covered up and still warm. Before I head to the dining table I take a piece of French bread set out.

I seat myself heavily and with a loud sigh. I forget that my dad's here to hear that until he comes into the dining room with a worried expression.

"Is everything alright?" my dad asks.

I shrug. "It's just Marco."

"Did you two have a fight?" my dad asks, sitting down in front of me.

"No, we didn't," I say and sigh. "He's just- something's wrong and he's not telling me anything. I'm getting worried." 

My dad looks thoughtful for a moment. "Have you asked him to share?"

"Well, not exactly," I say, suddenly feeling stupid. "I did before, when I was only suspicious of something being wrong. But he never answered so now I'm just kind of waiting it out."

"Maybe you should try again," my dad says. "And if you're worried that he'll get angry, yes, he might. But I think it will pass."

"But I don't want him to be angry with me," I say. It scares me. What if everything gets fucked up because of that?

"Jean, you've fought with your friends before haven't you?" my dad asks.

"Yeah," I say. Connie, Sasha and I argue all the time. And Eren and I fight a lot, our entire relationship is grounded on fights but I still think we're friends. 

"And they're still very close with you?" he asks. I nod. "It's no different with you and Marco. I'm sorry to say Jean-bo, but fighting is as much a part of a relationship as anything else. So is keeping things from one another. It'll happen and you two might be angry and hurt for a while but if the relationship is strong you'll forgive each other and all of that stuff won't matter anymore."

I slump forward and consider drowning myself in the bowl of stew in front of me. "Well, this sucks."

My dad laughs and stands up. He passes me and ruffles my hair before saying, "You should confront him about it. I don't think I mentioned that it could also make you both feel a lot better rather than miserable."

I nod and my dad leaves me alone with my rapidly cooling dinner. Why is it so cold in the winter? My stew would be fine if it wasn't cold.

I eat mechanically and soon my bowl is empty and my bread is gone. I wasn't even paying attention to my food. I was setting up one of those pros and cons charts in my head. Pros: We both might feel better, I might be able to help or at least offer some kind of support that isn't blind, I actually know what the fuck is wrong with my boyfriend. Cons: we fight and he shuts me out. Now, see the pros outweigh the cons but unfortunately the cons are scary as fuck and not at all pleasant. In my opinion that evens things out.

I sigh and rinse out my bowl. No, I think it's time that I stop getting scared off. This is what I signed up for when I decided to be in a relationship with Marco. I'll take it all, good and bad if it means I get to be with him. I'll confront him about it tomorrow. I need some sleep and I want to talk to him face to face.

I trudge up the stairs and go into my room, ready for sleep. I get dressed into some sweats and the oversized shirt that Marco wore when he stayed the night on New Years. After I'm in my pajamas I flop onto bed and wrap myself up in the duvet.

* * *

 At first the buzzing of my phone is just a nuisance. I think it's the alarm of my clock but when I remember it's Saturday I open an eye and squint at the screen. The time is two o' clock in the morning and the person calling me is Marco.

"Hello, my angel," I say, smiling when I answer the phone and remember the pet name I came up with earlier.

"Jean," Marco says. Up until he said that it didn't really click in my groggy thoughts that it's two in the morning and Marco is calling me with a shaky voice, sounding like he's on the verge of tears.

"Marco? What's wrong?" I question, sitting up and flinging off the blankets, suddenly awake.

"Can you come over?" he asks.

"Of course I'm coming over now," I say and pretty much run downstairs. I stuff my feet into my shoes, not bothering to put on socks and go outside into the chilly air with the first jacket that I was able to reach. It's not too heavy and it barely protects me from the cold air that nips mercilessly on my exposed skin and through my thin clothes.

"I'm going to stay on the phone with you until I get there," I say.

"You really don't have to, Jean," Marco says. "And I'm sorry I'm calling you so late. Ah, and if you haven't left the house yet you don't have to come, it's nothing really."

"Marco goddammit," I say. "You sounded like you were going to cry. You  _still_ sound like it. I'm coming over."

"Okay," Marco says after a momentary pause.

"Tell me what's wrong?" I ask softly. I meant to make it sound like I was ordering him gently but it turned out to be a question and now I don't know if he's actually going to say anything.

"When you get here," Marco says shakily.

"Marco, do you promise?" I ask.

"Promise," Marco whispers.

For the rest of the drive there I croon into his ear how amazing he is, trying to push back all the awful thoughts about why Marco would come to me at two in the morning, probably crying. I almost tell him that I love him a few times in my worry. But I know right now is definitely  _not_ a good time to say that. It would only come off as desperate given the situation.

I make it to his house in just under six minutes in the normally ten minute drive. I'm glad the roads are clear and there's no ice on them either or else there probably would have been some accidents in my haste to get here.

"Marco, I'm in front of your house now," I say once I cut the engine. Marco opens the door almost immediately after I told him that.

"I was leaning against the door waiting for you," he explains. I smile and rush up to his front door, hanging up the phone just before I tackle him into a hug.

"Now tell me," I plead. 

"Okay," Marco says. We back into the house and he closes the door. I kick my shoes off and follow him onto the stairs. He sits down on one and breathes in deeply. "I'm sorry if you were sleeping, it's a stupid reason that I called you here."

"Marco," I say softly, sitting on the same step next to him. "I don't fucking care."

Marco laughs and looks down at the floor. I take one of his hands in mine and he finally says, "I just had a nightmare."

"Want to tell me what it was about?" I ask. With as much as it shook him up it can't have been a normal nightmare.

He looks at me and then down at my chest before crushing me into his arms. I hold him back tightly and we sit there for a little while before I feel Marco's body jolt in a sob. The broken sound he makes nearly brings me to tears too.

I look up at the ceiling, close my eyes and breathe out. I rock us back and forth while Marco cries onto my shoulder. I feel completely helpless. I don't know what to do here.

Please don't cry my angel.

I hold him tightly and wait for him to calm down. I wait and feel a sharp pain in my chest at seeing Marco crying. I don't want this to happen again, not ever. I place one of my hands on the back of his head, petting his hair.

When Marco finally calms down enough to speak he says, "I used to date this guy in Shiganshina. I was serious about him and I wanted to tell everyone about us. So I got braver and I kissed him on the street once. I thought it was clear. I didn't think there were people around."

Marco shakes in my arms and I hold him tighter. I shush him and stroke his back and his hair. "You don't have to tell me right now if you don't want to."

I feel Marco shake his head against my shoulder. "I'll tell you, it's not really fair that I've been hiding from you how fucked up I am."

"You're not fucked up," I say. I kiss his cheek and the side of his head and everywhere I can reach. "You're not."

"Shiganshina is a shitty place to live. Everyone is so conservative and I'm gay so of course everyone hated me when they found out. Thomas and I dated in secret. He didn't even say hello to me in school because of what everyone thought of me. But then I pushed him to tell people, since I was out and dealing with hate by myself. I wanted someone else to be there for me.

"He didn't of course and like I said I kissed him on the street. I don't know if these people wanted to hurt us before that or what because one of them came with a fucking knife. They were kids from school. I had my first class with one of them. They attacked us and tried to stab Thomas here," Marco says, pulling back and placing his hand on the center of my chest.

"I saw what was happening and pushed him out of the way. They got pissed and came after me instead which is when I got this," Marco says and lifts his shirt, showing the scar that I've tried so hard to avoid. On closer inspection and actually knowing what it is, it looks like a sloppy stab wound. It isn't a clean cut and it makes me _furious_  to think that someone would intentionally try to hurt Marco.

"They- if I hadn't moved at the last second I think they would have killed me," Marco says. Marco's eyes start to get misty again and I embrace him again. Marco needs this and I do too.

"I'll fucking kill them," I growl. Marco holds me tight and finishes off what he was saying.

"I'm over Thomas, we broke up after that. For good reason. I thought I was in love with him for a while before I met you. Tonight, I dreamed that it was you on the street with me and I- I wasn't able to push you away in time," Marco says. He starts crying and shaking again. "Jean, I'm so terrified of that happening again. Especially now that I realize that I love you."

I finally feel the barriers go down. I can't hold back my tears anymore so I let them trail down my cheeks. "I love you too. And it won't happen again. I swear."

That wasn't how I thought our first "I love you" would have gone. I didn't think Marco would be crying out of sadness and fear and I didn't think I would growl it into his ear angrily. I thought it would have been exchanged on a romantic date somewhere. Somewhere where I could declare it to the world. But no, we're on the stairs in Marco's house, crying together because the world is kind of a shitty place. It's crazy and it's filled with crazy people and all we can do is cling to each other and say that we love one another.

I don't know how long we sit on those hardwood steps but eventually Marco tugs on my sleeve.

"Can we cuddle on my bed?" he asks.

"Yes," I say and follow him up the steps. We fall onto his small twin sized bed together. Marco pulls the covers up over us and gazes at me.

"Thank you for telling me," I say. I brush my hand over his cheek. 

"Thank you for not running away in terror," Marco says with a small smile. 

"I would never," I say. He leans forward and presses his lips to mine. Our kiss is slow and sweet for a while before Marco props himself up on one of his elbows and deepens our kiss. He gently pushes his tongue into my mouth and I greet it eagerly. I suck at the tip of his tongue and nip at his bottom lip, making him groan. We continue kissing like this and some point it becomes frantic and Marco makes wanton noises in the back of his throat. He moves on top of me and starts moving his hips down onto mine. I meet with him halfway and soon I feel myself getting hard. Well shit. We were crying just a little while ago I don't think Marco wants to deal with hand-jobs or something.

Marco feels my erection too because he stops and whispers my name.

"S-sorry," I say. "Just give me a moment to think of dead puppies or something it'll go away."

Marco shakes his head. "I was just- I was wondering if maybe you wanted to have... sex?"

I blink up at him. "You want to- to do that? With me?"

Marco smiles before kissing my nose. "Yes." He flips us over until I'm the one on top and he bites my bottom my lip. "I want you."

I moan at that. "I don't have anything with me."

Marco reaches over and digs in the space between his mattress and bed frame before he brings out a pack of condoms and a bottle of lube.

"I- I've kind of been wanting to do this with you for a while, so I went ahead and bought everything," Marco says sheepishly. I chuckle and kiss him. Taking the lube from his hand. Suddenly that embarrassing research I did a week ago isn't seeming too bad. I was curious about the differences in gay sex and straight sex. I think I'm a little more prepared for it now that I know what I should be ready for. I take Marco's hand and am about to coat it in lube when he stops me.

"No, I- I want you to do it to  _me,"_ he says, blushing furiously. "You're a guy too, I don't have to be the only one inserting."

I blink, starting to think that I'm a fucking idiot. All this time I was preparing myself to become the bottom, considering Marco's fingered me three times and I _loved_ it each time. I thought that it had to be that way every time. I'm starting to think that that's not how a gay relationship actually is.

"Oh," I say. Smooth as crunchy fucking peanut butter, Jean.

Marco smiles and kisses me. "You're a dork."

"I'm  _your_ dork," I say and kiss him back. I sit up and take my shirt off, Marco following my actions. I lean down and kiss at his neck while working his pajama pants and underwear down. I get off of the bed and shuck my bottoms off quickly before crawling back on the bed. It hits me once I see Marco lying naked there, half-hard that we haven't seen each other completely naked until now. We've always had at least a shirt on or our pants were only half way down. But now nothing is there and I can feel every single inch of him.

"You're beautiful," I say and crawl back on top of him, kissing his chest.

"You're amazing," Marco replies. I laugh against his stomach, trailing kisses down until I'm at his naval. I lick at the top of his hips and then move down onto his cock where I plant hot kisses against his skin. I pull back and start coating my fingers with the lube. Marco spreads his legs and bends his knees. I groan at the sight.

I copy what Marco's done to me and coat his hole with the lube before carefully slipping in a finger. Marco groans quietly and I take his hardening dick into my hand and pump it slowly, working my in finger a little deeper. He's so tight and it's hot inside of him. Imagining his tight warmth wrapped around my cock makes me moan. I wait until he's relaxed and start thrusting my finger.

I feel him becoming loser and warn, "I'm putting another finger in."

"Oh god yes," Marco groans. I start licking and biting at one of his nipples while easing another finger into his hot ass. He pants and spreads his legs just a little bit more for me. I lick my way across his chest and play with his other nipple, waiting patiently for him to be relaxed again. When he starts moving his hips a little bit I scissor my fingers for a little while before adding a third finger in. Marco moans.

I move down again until I'm up at his cock again and licking there. He twists his fingers into my hair and moves his hips back onto my fingers. He rests one of his legs over my shoulder and spreads his other out further, opening himself up more.

"Jean, fuck me," he begs. I feel a smile come onto my lips.

"Well, if you're cursing I guess you're definitely ready," I say. I move my fingers out of him and he whimpers. I sit up, his leg still resting on my shoulder. I kiss his calf and reach for the condoms. Marco opens it and hands it over to me. I take it and kiss his hand before dropping it and opening the package. I roll the condom onto myself with shaky fingers. I'm a little nervous to say the least. My inexperience is becoming glaringly obvious as I keep moving on.

Marco squeezes my thigh and smiles at me. "You're doing fine."

I calm myself down and lube myself up before positioning myself in front of Marco's entrance. "You ready?" I ask.

Marco nods, moving his leg that's on the mattress up a bit. I push myself in slowly and moan at the feeling of the tightness around the head of my cock. I move forward and hold myself over him before kissing him frantically. He fucks his tongue into my mouth and I push in just a little more. When my hips press against him I stop there and wait. Marco starts whimpering and moving his hips after a little while and I move backwards before pushing in slowly again.

Marco moans and reaches around his raised leg and to my thigh, squeezing it again. He moves his hips and I take that as a signal that I can go a little faster. I hold myself back pretty well, considering I really want to go fuck him faster. I wait patiently for him first though. It would be kind of shitty if I was the only one feeling good. I want Marco to feel amazing too. We kiss sloppily, really doing nothing other than moving our tongues in and out of each other's mouths. 

I angle my hips differently and start searching for Marco's prostate. Oh yeah, I figured out what that sweet spot was called in my research. 

I keep changing the angle that I thrust into him until one particular thrust makes Marco moan loudly and reach up over his head and fist his fingers into the pillow.

I turn my head and lick at his calf. "Right there, angel?"

Marco nods frantically and I waste no time snapping my hips forward onto that spot again. I shout when I feel him tighten a little bit against me.

"Jean, faster," Marco moans. I kiss his calf and comply, speeding up my thrusts. I don't know how long I'm going to last at this rate. When every little sound that Marco makes, from his breathing to his moans makes me feel more aroused I think it would be hard to last a very long time. I start speeding up a little more and Marco's mouth hangs open, constantly letting out broken moans. I start breathing harshly and kiss at his calf. I grip behind his knee and hold his leg that was resting on the mattress put as I move just a little faster. Marco begins moaning louder and his stomach tenses. 

"Jean, I'm going to cum," he says. I grab his dick and start pumping along with my thrusts.

"Do it," I say. He moans and I feel him clench around me before he starts cumming on his stomach. I start thrusting frantically into him and bite his leg, trying to keep my shouts under control as I cum. My hips stutter before I finally come to a stop. Marco drops his leg off of my shoulder and I pull out of him. I pull the condom off of me and tie it off before tossing it into the trash can next to the bed.

"The tissues are behind you," Marco says. I look down at the cum on his stomach and smile.

"Who needs tissues?" I ask. I lean down and start licking him clean, making sure I get all of it. Marco moans above me and I smile against his stomach. I lap up the last of his cum and he pulls me up into a sloppy kiss. We're too tired to do anything other than move our lips lazily together. Marco pulls me down until we're spooning. Marco's back is to me and we're both facing the wall.

"Thank you, Jean," Marco says.

"Anything for you, Marco," I say. I kiss the back of his neck and rest my hand on his hip. His head is resting on my arm and his breathing is starting to even out. "You're safe," I say. 

"I know," Marco says. His fingers twine into mine. "I love you."

"I love you too," I say. 

We fall asleep shortly after that, completely happy for the moment.

* * *

 I wake up to the sound of my phone buzzing for a second time. It's a miracle that I was able to hear it on the floor, in the pocket of my jacket at all. I move myself away from Marco's warmth grumpily and look at the caller ID. Oh fuck, it's my mom. I didn't think about giving my parents an excuse about where I would be. I sit at the edge of Marco's bed and hastily pull on my underwear and answer.

"Jean, where the hell are you?" my mom asks the second I pick up. I wince.

"I'm sorry, one of my friends was feeling shitty so I came because they needed me," I say, telling part of the truth.

"Jean, baby, why aren't you in bed?" Marco asks. I close my eyes and hope against hope that my mom didn't hear that.

"Are you with Marco?" my mom asks. I sigh and drop my head into one of my hands. Goddammit. "Honey, if you were going off to have sex with your boyfriend the least you could have done was set up an excuse ahead of time about going to spend the night at a _friends_."

I groan. "Mom, please don't."

"Well I hope you two used protection," my mom continues.

" _Mom,"_ I say. Why me?

"Was he really feeling bad, dear?" my mom asks.

I sigh. "Yeah, he's better now though."

"I'm sure he is," my mom says.

"You're embarrassing," I state. "Almost as bad as Connie and Sasha."

My mom laughs. "Well, I'm glad he's feeling better."

"Can we do the hanging up thing now?" I ask.

"Alright," my mom says. "Expect your father and I to be here when you do the morning-after shuffle."

"Okay, I'm hanging up now! Bye!" I say. I hang up to the sound of my mom's giggles. Marco wraps his arms around my waist.

"Did I get you into trouble?" he asks.

"Well, you're loud you can't help it," I say and twist around.

"You're louder," he says.

"Shut up," I say and kiss him softly. I settle underneath the covers again and he slings a leg over mine. He presses his face into my chest and I feel his smile slowly slip away.

"I'm sorry for calling you over for a stupid reason," Marco says.

"It wasn't stupid," I say. Not when it makes you cry. Not when it's something that's been haunting you for a long time.

Marco kisses my chest and sighs. "I really love you."

"I really love you too," I reply. Marco giggles. "I feel like a middle school girl."

"I'm glad I'm not the only one," Marco says.

We lie in bed for a little while just holding onto each other. We're safe here in each other's arms. I think as long as we're together it'll be okay. I think our happiness will last.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentines Day shopping and then Valentines Day!

In my personal opinion, you should shower your significant other with as much affection as you can every single day. I think it's important that they know you love them, even if you have to say it twenty times a day for the rest of your life. This fact has kept me from ever celebrating Valentines Day because it's a fucking useless holiday.  However, that doesn't mean that I'm not going to pamper the fuck out of Marco tomorrow. I think if it's any day that he'd let me get away with spoiling him, it would be tomorrow. At least I hope so. 

"Jean, hurry the fuck up, I don't feel like being trampled by people wanting to get a goddamn teddy bear," Ymir says, grabbing me by the sleeve of my shirt and dragging me to safety.

"Abort mission, we're going somewhere else," Connie says, rushing to keep up with the rest of the group. It's a damn good thing he's short, he can weave through crowds like a pro, while the rest of us of average height and up have it a little tougher. And poor Reiner probably has it the worst out of all of us.

"'Scuse me," Reiner mutters over and over again.

We finally push through the crowded store and out into the main part of the mall again. There we reorient ourselves and make a new plan of attack.

"Okay, so that place is out," Connie says. "I swear they weren't even that busy when we first went in there."

I shrug. "It's a small shop, it gets crowded easily."

"It also doesn't help that it's the best place to go to for Valentines Day," Reiner mutters.

"This is why I don't like to go to the fucking mall," Ymir complains.

"Alright guys shut up, let's just make a new plan," Connie says. There's silence as that statement is met with no ideas.

"Um," I say after a moment. "We could just go window shopping until we find some place that isn't too busy."

"Window shopping? That's the best you can come up with?" Ymir asks.

"Well I don't hear any of  _you_ coming up with anything," I grumble.

"Alright, window shopping. We can do this," Reiner says.

"Oh, yes!" Connie says enthusiastically. "Let's find some nice ass candy for our girlfriends and boyfriends."

Connie and I fist-bump and our group heads in a random direction in search of some decent Valentines Day stuff. 

"So, Jean," Ymir says. I feel a wave of dread at her tone. "What are you getting Marco?"

I look at her with suspicion but answer truthfully. "I wanted to get him one of those huge teddy bears. I thought he'd look cute carrying it around." 

Ymir nods. "No... blow-jobs? At a viewpoint?"

All of my friends burst into laughter and I turn red.

"I hate all of you," I mutter. 

"You totally love all of us," Ymir states, slinging an arm over my shoulders. I sigh while my friends giggle at my expense.

We continue down the mall, with Ymir's arm still resting on my shoulders. I try to shrug her off a few times but accept the attempt as futile when she only laughs and repositions her arm.

"You two are a cute couple," an old lady says to us after a little more wandering.

"Oh we're-" I start saying but Ymir cuts me off.

"Totally a couple. We've been dating for a year almost isn't that right honey?" Ymir asks and nuzzles her face into my shoulder. I laugh awkwardly and the lady smiles at us brightly.

"Well I hope you two have a nice day. It's so nice to see young people in happy relationships," she says. 

"Yes we're really happy," Ymir says. She leans forward and gives me a peck on the lips which I try not to grimace at. The lady moves away finally and when she's a safe distance away Connie and Reiner burst into laughter. Ymir pretends to gag.

"Boy lips," she says in disgust.

"Not Marco's lips," I say mimicking her tone and her bent over posture as if we're about to both be sick.

Reiner and Connie snicker as they walk past us and further into the mall.

"Come on lovebirds," Reiner says over his shoulder. Ymir and I manage to straighten ourselves out and follow them.

"I vote that we never take a joke that far again," I announce.

"Agreed," Ymir says with a shudder.

"That was pretty damn hilarious though," Connie cackles. Reiner laughs along with him.

"What even made you do that?" Reiner asks.

"I think I was possessed by a heterosexual demon," Ymir says and chuckles. "I just thought it would be funny to make horse-face over here uncomfortable."

I wipe at my lips and mutter. "Don't call me horse-face."

Ymir laughs and our little group continues walking. After some wandering and arguing and escalator climbing we find a little shop that doesn't look too busy, with all the assortments of Valentines Day. It's a small shop, decorated with red and pink streamers. It's set up a little bit like a gas station except more quaint and homey.

The racks near the front are taken up by chocolate boxes and hearts. There are also some stuffed animals set up near the back. From there is just an assortment of snacks and little trinkets. 

"Hello," the older woman behind the counter says. She smiles and waves at us before fussing around behind her small counter.

"Looks like your giant teddy bear isn't here, Jean," Reiner comments, perusing the chocolates that are available.

"I can still get him chocolate," I say. I take one of the heart shaped boxes and examine the flavors that are inside. It looks like most of the chocolate has caramel inside of them, just like Marco likes. I figured out his fondness of of this candy when I noticed his habit of getting Twix or Snickers bars or some other caramel related candy every time we went out shopping for sweets.

"Aren't you getting anything for Christa?" Connie asks Ymir after gathering a couple of boxes of candy.

Ymir shakes her head. "She doesn't like sweets."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that," Connie says. "So then what are you going to get her?"

Ymir looks away and blushes, something I don't see her do very often.

"I was thinking of... a ring," Ymir says and shrugs. "An engagement ring."

We all stop our browsing and look at our friend. She never really expressed an interest in marriage and we're all so young that a present like that never really crossed our minds. But Ymir and Christa have been together for three years and they're just about as passionate about each other as they were when they were in the ninth grade.

"I want to propose to her after high school," Ymir says and picks up a white rabbit that holds a little red heart in one of it's paws. Ymir plays with it idly.

"Well then you'd have nothing to give her tomorrow," Connie pipes up. "Get her the bunny for now."

"You think?" Ymir says and flops one of the ears around.

"Go for it," Reiner says.

Ymir regards the rabbit for a moment and brings it to her chest, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I'll get it for her."

I smile at her. "Congrats on becoming the biggest sap out of all of us."

Ymir snorts. "Couldn't top you when you talk about Marco even if I tried."

We laugh together and head up to the counter having picked everything we wanted to give out of the small collection in the store. Reiner got Bert a bouquet of roses. They're plastic but pretty nonetheless. Connie checks out his chocolates and Ymir her rabbit.

"Good luck with your girlfriend," the woman behind the counter tells her. Ymir offers her a small smile and walks to the entrance of the store, where the rest of our group is waiting. I'm the last one in line and finally set my lone box of chocolates on the counter. The woman checks me out quietly and before I leave she smiles and says. "I'm sorry we don't offer any giant teddy bears."

I chuckle and take the small plastic bag she offers from her. "It's alright. I'm sure I can find it somewhere else, it looks like we're going to have to go to a jewelry store so I might find one on the way there."

"The one you're getting the bear for is Marco correct?" the woman asks as I stuff my change into my wallet. "I heard his name from the girl."

"Yeah," I say. I can't help the soft smile that curls my lips when I think of him. It's ridiculous that just hearing his name makes me incredibly happy. When I manage to stuff down my embarrassment at my dopey smile I look up at her and she's regarding me softly.

"Make sure to cherish him," the woman says. "And be there for him when he needs you to be. In return he'll take care of you."

I smile at her. "Thank you." 

I leave the store and regroup with my friends. I really enjoyed that conversation with the woman. She seemed nice and that last bit of advice I have every intention of following. But not because I'm looking out for my future well-being. I'll follow it because I love Marco and I want to see him happy. And he's so,  _so_ important to me I'd be a fucking idiot not to cherish him.

"What were you two talking about?" Reiner asks.

"How perfect Marco is," I reply.

"You just can't keep quiet about your boyfriend can you?" Ymir asks.

"Nope," I say.

Connie snickers. "At least you guys don't have to sit with them at lunch. Their eye-sex is pretty bad."

I sigh and hang my head in defeat. I don't think they're going to let me live this down for the rest of our lives. We'll be celebrating our kids fifth birthday and my friends will come barging in and telling my baby how their dads were hormone-crazed teenagers, ready to devour each other at any given moment. And that would be an exaggeration. I don't think we could look like that  _all the time._ I mean, what about the times we can't help but look into each other's eyes because we love each other and looking at any thing else is a waste of time? I'd say those are some looks that they ignore. 

"Oh, don't pout you baby," Ymir says.

"I thought we made fun of him because his sulking was funny," Connie says.

"It is," Reiner points out.

"Not for the first time today I'm wondering why I'm still friends with you guys," I gripe.

"Our statement still stands," Connie says and gives me a shit-eating grin. "You  _love_ us."

"Shut up," I mumble.

My friends snicker together and we wander around the mall a little while longer in search for a decent and cheap jewelry store. Ymir says she's saved up for the ring at this point and has a budget. The search for the ring begins then and we walk in and out of every jewelry store in the place. Ymir is being picky about what she wants to get Christa. She says it has to be just right so Reiner, Connie and I don't really help much. The first few times we did that we were shot down pretty quickly. So we're just along for the ride. We're just happy for our friend. I can't believe she's getting engaged. I didn't think people our age think about that stuff.

It makes me wonder when _I_ would get engaged. A couple of years? Maybe a little longer? And, god, I hope it's with Marco. I think I'm realizing that I want to spend the rest of my life with him. Is it too early for me to be thinking that? In reality we've only known each other for two months. But I really love him. Chalk it up to youth or whatever but these feelings are very real to me. I don't know if I could feel something stronger.

"I'm thinking of getting her this one," Ymir says. We crowd around the area of the glass cases that she's standing in front of and follow where she's pointing.

Inside is a simple ring. It's silver and the band twists at the front of it. It's small and cute. I think it fits Christa.

"Looks fitting," I say out loud.

"It's cute," Connie comments.

"I think so too," Ymir says. She calls over a cashier for some help. Reiner, Connie and I wander around the store and wait for Ymir to get everything in order.

"I think I'd get Bert something like this," Reiner says and points to a gold band. That's all it is but it's shiny and nice.

I look around until I spot a silver ring. It's band is thick and on the front is a single, small diamond set into the ring. I step forward and gaze at it. I imagine it on Marco's finger. I imagine slipping it onto him after he says yes. His hand is shaking slightly and his other one is covering his mouth and he's grinning and maybe a tear or two slips out of his eyes. After I slip the ring onto him I'll stand and kiss him and take him home. We might have an apartment together by that time. We'll go to our home and make love. And I'll tell Marco just how endlessly precious he is to me.

"Are you getting a ring for Marco?" Connie asks. I think he's joking at first but when I look at him he only seems thoughtful.

I shake my head. "Not today."

"Someday though," Connie says. I nod, even though he didn't say it as a question.

"Ymir's got me thinking about marriage and engagements and stuff," I say with a chuckle.

"Me too," Connie says. "You know, statistically a lot of people don't marry the people they dated back in high school."

"I guess not," I say. "But pretty much everyone who's dating in our friend group is so in love it's hard to see them with anyone else."

Connie nods. "Yeah, it is."

"You're thinking a lot today," I observe.

Connie snorts. "I think a lot all the time, Kirschtein."

"Are you thinking about Sasha?" I ask. "Or the future?"

"Both," Connie says. "I think I'm realizing that I really don't want a future without Sasha."

"Yeah?" I say. We're both staring at the rings set out in front of us.

"Do you picture Marco in every scenario in your future subconsciously?" Connie asks.

I think about it for a moment. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I do."

"Is it scary for you to think that we're only seventeen yet we think we've already found someone we want to be with for a long time?" Connie asks. "I've always heard that it's scary. And in a way I guess it is, but I feel more excited than anything. There's all that time that we have and we can spend all of it with them if we want."

"I don't think it's enough time," I say. "Seventy years isn't enough time with Marco I think."

Connie nods.

"You're both looking very thoughtful," Reiner says, standing behind us.

"Just thinking about the future," I say.

"Scary," Reiner says.

"We were just saying it was a little exciting though," Connie says with a chuckle.

"Our logic behind that would be, we have all this time we can spend with whoever we fall in love with," I explain.

Reiner nods. "That's true."

"You wanna spend it with Bert?" Connie asks.

"Yeah," Reiner says. We continue staring at the rings set out in front of us. For such small things they hold a lot of meaning don't they? Just looking at them has sent all three of us idiots into some deep thinking. I'm not sure how long we stand there. We finally bring ourselves to move when Ymir comes back and questions why we're staring off into space.

"You're just such an inspiration to us all," Connie says dramatically. Ymir rolls her eyes. We laugh and we're off.

A little while later we end up at Target across the street from the mall we were at. There's always one around malls I swear. There I finally find Marco's stuffed bear.

"That thing's the size of a five year old," Ymir observes.

"Still smaller than some of the damn monsters that the girls at school were carrying around," I say.

"They seriously looked like actual bears," Reiner agrees.

I carry the bear to the check out lane, my friends surrounding me. It's large and white, holding a bouquet of roses and a heart that says "I love you."

I'm able to check out fairly quickly. I think it's because the cashier just wants to get the fuck out of here.

"We're done,  _finally_ ," Ymir says. Her relief is understandable because we've been shopping since we got out of school at three and it is now nearly six o' clock. Most of that time was because Ymir was being picky over her ring but we let it slide.

"Do you guys wanna go out and eat something?" Connie asks.

"Do you have anything in mind?" Reiner asks. 

"Chuck E Cheese!" Connie says.

"There are a bunch of snotty kids there. No," Ymir says. 

"Let's just get pizza and go to one of our houses," Reiner suggests. There are sounds of agreement in our little group and we head off to Reiner's car.

"We could go to my place since it's closer," I say. We pile into the car and Reiner starts the engine.

"Sounds good," Reiner says.

"Go to Little Caesars," Connie says, pointing a finger forward.

"Get your damn bear out of my face," Ymir says. I huff and shift it over my shoulder and into the back. Reiner has a Jeep so the trunk is attached right to the back seats where Ymir and I are seated.

Ymir holds the bag that has the ring in it close to her. I smile at her.

"You've gotten soft," I say.

"Shut up," she grouses. I laugh.

We pull out of the parking lot and make our way to the pizza place. This is our preferred place, mostly because we can get it cheaply and right away. Cheap and quick, the food of the gods.

Throughout the whole drive there Connie and Ymir bicker back and forth about what toppings we should get. Connie votes for three meat but Ymir just wants straight up pepperoni. 

"Alright, everyone who wants three meat say I," Connie says and waits.

"I like a lot of meat," Reiner pipes up.

"We didn't need your fucking perverted version of that," Ymir says.

"Yeah, after that I'm voting for pepperoni," I say.

"You would like a sausage wouldn't you Jean?" Connie says with wiggled eyebrows.

"Jesus fucking Christ," I say, holding my head in my hands. Connie and Reiner high five with a laugh.

After some more bickering we agree on just pepperoni. But then we arrive at the place and we have to decide who's going to suffer the line.

"Not it," Connie says. Reiner and Ymir say it immediately after and I'm only just a little slower.

"Damn it," I mumble.

"You snooze you lose," Ymir says and makes a shooing motion. "Now move your ass."

"First I have to deal with Reiner's and Connie's sexual harassment, now this," I grumble.

"Yeah, yeah," Connie says. "Make sure to get two boxes."

"Got it," I say and close the car door after I slip out onto the sidewalk. 

I have to wait in line behind eight people. On a Friday at six o' clock, this isn't too bad. That thought doesn't make waiting in the small lobby any less of a pain though.

When it's finally my turn I order the pizza that I need and end up walking out a minute after I place my order. 

Finally making it back into the car I'm greeted with a bunch of hungry teenagers.

"Calm down, we're going to be at my place in, like, five minutes," I say.

Reiner pulls out of the parking lot and we're back on the road fairly quickly.

"Hurry, Reiner. I think I'm going to die before we get to Jean's," Connie says, flinging himself onto the door next to him dramatically.

Reiner chuckles but speeds up just a little bit. I think he's hungry too. 

We make it to my house in good time and with a lot of complaining on Connie's part. When we park in front of my house I relinquish the pizza to Reiner so I can carry Marco's presents inside.

"Dad! Ma! I'm home now," I yell into the house once we're inside. "I brought pizza!"

"Bring it into the dining room, dear!" my mom answers. I hear clattering in the kitchen as, I assume, my mom gets plates.

"Connie, Reiner and Ymir are here too!" I say.

"Good! Bring them in!" my dad calls. I gesture for them to go ahead of me so I can put the bear and chocolate away. 

I rush up the stairs and place the presents on my bed. When I go back downstairs I see everyone gathered in front of the TV watching Wipeout. I grab three slices of pizza before going to join them. Connie is taking the space on the couch next to my parents and Reiner and Ymir are seated in the armchairs. I seat myself on the floor in front of Connie. I could wrestle him for one of the two spots that he's taking up but I'm lazy as fuck and just want to eat right now.

It's a nice evening of us laughing at people getting quite possibly maimed and eating greasy pizza. I think my friends stay over for two hours before Reiner stands up and says he should get going. As Ymir and Connie's ride they leave along with him. 

I let them out and wave goodbye before dragging myself back to the living room. 

"Are you and Marco going to do anything tomorrow?" my mom asks.

"I was thinking of taking him out to this tubing place," I say. "He always gets happy over small things, and this looked fun."

"We're going to go out tomorrow too," my dad says. "We're going to be out for most of the day."

"Yeah okay, that's cool," I say. I think it's good that they're going out. My dad has only one more week with us before he has to leave for another trip.

"If you and Marco hang out here don't leave a mess," my mom says. I nod, thinking she's just talking about normal mom stuff, like worrying about dirty dishes or something. That is until I catch a glimpse at her smile from the corner of my eye.

"Ma!" I exclaim and hide my face behind a pillow.

"I don't think we've ever had a talk about the birds and the bees with you before actually," my dad says. He stands and motions for me to stay. "I got something for you."

"He's not getting what I think he's getting is he?" I ask in horror.

"Consider it a Valentines Day present," my mom says. I groan and drop my face into the pillow again. Why can't I have normal parents?

My dad comes back downstairs with... yep, a box of condoms.

He seats himself right next to me and puts the box in my hand.

"Now," he says. "You and Marco can't get pregnant but protection is still important."

"Please don't," I plead and squeeze my eyes shut, willing this to end.

"Besides, clean-up is easier with these," my mom says.

"Are you guys done?" I ask. I stand up with my parents failing greatly at trying to hide their laughter. "You did this just to torture me didn't you?"

My mom raises her hand and holds her pointer finger and thumb apart in a sign of "little bit."

"I'm going upstairs," I say and stand. My parents giggle behind me and I feel my face heat up a little more. I didn't think it was possible but this is just as bad as Ymir catching Marco and I on New Years and then teasing us about it afterwards.

I run away and into my room where I throw off my shirt and pants and exchange that for some pajama bottoms. Before I flop into bed I place the chocolates on my desk and  _then_  I throw myself onto the bear propped up on my bed. 

Even though it's not that late into the evening I'm tired.  _But_ I'm willing to fight that off for a couple more hours if Marco picks up the phone.

I dial his number and wait for him to answer. It doesn't take long for his sweet voice to come down the line.

"Hey," he chirps.

"Hello, my angel," I say. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing really, just lying in bed," Marco says. "It's a lazy day for me."

I hum in approval. "That sounds nice."

"Mhm," Marco agrees. "Wish you were here to cuddle though."

"Me too," I agree.

There's a moment where Marco rustles around and then he's talking again. "So what did you do today?"

"I got a certain freckled angel their Valentines Day gifts," I say. 

"I wonder who they could be for," Marco says with a chuckle.

"You might just have to wait until tomorrow to figure that one out, babe," I say. 

Marco makes a cute noise and grouses. "Fine."

I laugh and go back onto the topic we strayed from. "I also had pizza with Connie, Ymir and Reiner. Oh, and after that my parents sat me down and we had  _the talk."_

Marco groans. "Really? How did that go?"

"I thought I was going to melt into the fucking couch. It was brief but one of the most horrifying things I'd ever had to live through." 

"My poor baby," Marco sympathizes.

"My dad gave me a pack of condoms!" I exclaim. Marco laughs as I wrap my blanket around me. "It's not funny."

"It's a little funny," he says.

"Hasn't anyone had  _the talk_ with you?" I ask.

"My parents," Marco says. "And it was horrifying, I've earned the right to laugh at your misfortune."

I snort. "Sometimes I wonder why I call you angel."

"Because one day you decided to say, 'you're perfect, like a freckled angel' with a pause for dramatic effect 'my angel,'" Marco explains.

"Oh yeah. Yeah, I think I'm starting to remember something like that," I joke. Marco laughs softly into the phone. "You've turned me into some hopeless romantic you know."

"I think that's an achievement," Marco says. "You say some cute things you know."

"Really?" I ask.

"Yeah, like your nickname for me, that's really cute," Marco says.

"So you  _did_ like it," I say.

Marco giggles. "Okay I didn't mind it that much."

"My angel," I say with a smile. "Marco, you're my angel."

Marco laughs. "Okay, you can stop now."

I feel my smile grow just a little more. "Can't wait to see you tomorrow."

"I can't wait to see you either," Marco says.

"It's been nearly a week," I observe.

There's a moment of silence on the other line before Marco answers. "I've been trying to patch things up with my parents." 

"That's great, Marco," I say. "Are things a little better?"

"Yeah. Yeah they're a lot better now," Marco says. "They've- they're wanting to meet you now you know. Formally, not the hostile way my mom did last month." 

"I can do that," I say.

"They've just been scared, Jean," Marco says. "I can understand because sometimes  _I_ still feel scared."

"I'm here, Marco," I say. 

"I know," Marco says. "I love you, you know."

"I love you too," I say softly.

We talk on the phone for next to three hours. Sometimes there are lulls in the conversation but we never mind those. We're just content to listen to each other breath and rustle around underneath our covers. Sometimes we'd break the silence with a whispered "I love you" before lapsing back into silence. We'd talk about trivial things and Marco opens up about his parents a little more. I hear about when he was little and his brother and sister were first taken home and he was so excited his mom and dad got him a baby doll so that he would stop reaching for his siblings. He kept it for a long time after that. Until the night he got put into the hospital, and then in a lapse of fear his parents threw it out along with anything even remotely feminine that could show people that their son was gay.

"They're better now," Marco says. "They're figuring out that it's okay here."

"They should also know that you have a tough boyfriend now who would kick whoever's ass I needed to if they so much as looked at you weird," I say.

"Oh, I sure picked a tough one," Marco says.

"Damn right," I agree with a grunt.

"Thank you, Jean," Marco says.

"Anything for you Marco," I answer.

Soon after that we fall asleep. This time though Marco tells me he's getting tired and he hangs up with one more "I love you."

* * *

 "I missed you my angel," I say, gathering Marco into my arms and pecking him on the lips over and over again.

"I missed you too," Marco says with a growing grin. He grabs the back of my head and holds me in place one time though so our lips are pressed together until he finally slips his hand down onto my shoulder.

"First stop," I say, opening the passenger door for him. "A sweet place that I had the fortune to find."

"And where would that be?" Marco asks, taking a seat in the passenger side.

"It's a surprise, but it involves hills and snow and we all know how much you love snow," I say once I get into the drivers side of my car.

"Do we have to climb up the hills?" Marco asks hesitantly.

"Nope, I looked into it, there's a lift type thing," I say. I pull out and start driving

Marco hums thoughtfully. "Is this perhaps a sledding place you're taking me to?"

"Well technically, it's called 'tubing' but, yeah you're pretty much right," I say. I smile and take his hand. "What do you think of that?"

"I think that's an awesome idea," Marco says.

"Good, because I had to lug all our winter wear with me so we could go there," I say. "I brought my dad's stuff for you, they're kind of small on him now anyways."

"You sure I can use that stuff?" Marco asks.

"It's fine," I say. "Not like my parents are going to use it today anyways, they're going out today. My dad got an extension so he could celebrate Valentines Day with my mom before he had to leave again."

"That's romantic in and of itself," Marco says.

"Yeah, my dad does stuff like that a lot," I say.

"i see where you get it from," Marco says.

"I'm not romantic am I?" I ask.

"Not everyone can come up with the idea of building forts for a first date," Marco says, kissing me on the cheek. "And every date I've been on with you I've loved. There's not a single one that I thought was bad."

"You're making me really want to kiss you," I say. Marco chuckles and kisses the corner of my mouth before withdrawing. "Oh yes, red light!"

As soon as I stop the car I reach over and kiss Marco slowly. I pull away a tiny bit to nuzzle my nose against him before pressing our lips together for a few more seconds.

I hold Marco's hand when I pull away and rub my thumb over the back of it.

I notice him gazing at me from the corner of my eye.

"What is it?" I ask, flushing in self-consciousness.

Marco shrugs. "You're just absolutely amazing."

"You say that a lot," I observe. I start driving again once the light turns green.

"Not nearly enough," Marco says. I smile and squeeze his hand.

Even if with my awesome driving skills it still takes us an hour to get to the place. When we finally arrive we hop out of the car and get everything out of the trunk. We're both wearing pretty thick jeans so I don't bother with the marshmallow pants or whatever you want to call them. I hand Marco a coat, which is thicker than the hoodie he's currently wearing. I give him some snow boots too because I think the ground at the base of the hill is a little icy and I'm a fucking mom who doesn't want Marco to slip. I also slip a gray beanie onto his head which he looks absolutely adorable in. I kiss his nose when I'm done with that and put my own beanie on.

"Ready?" I ask as Marco stands, all bundled up.

"Yup," Marco says and pecks me on the cheek. I hold his gloved hand in mine and we walk up to the little shack that's supposed to give us our snow tubes.

When we reach the building I take my wallet out.

"Can I pay for it?" Marco asks. "I mean, at least half?"

I quirk an eyebrow at him. "Why?"

"Well, it's just you pay for our dates all the time I didn't think it was fair of me to not contribute," Marco says. He kicks at a bit of snow at his feet, looking a little bit like a child.

I smile at him. "I don't mind paying. But if you want to split it this time it's okay."

Marco kisses me. "Thanks."

We walk into the building and split the cost in half. When that's over we get our rented snow tubes and head off to the edge of the hill. It looks to be mostly ice on the way down. To the right is a pulley type thing that would take us and our tubes up. Some people are on it now, sitting in their tubes and being hoisted up the hill until they're deposited into a little nook where they have to hurry and get out of before the next person and their tube is swung onto there.

"Let's go to the higher part of the hill, baby," Marco says and grabs my hand, dragging me along. Marco finally stops at one point and sets his tube down. I follow his lead and soon we're sitting at the edge of the hill. 

"Should we go down together?" I ask, holding up a hook that's attached to my tube.

Inside when we got our snow tubes we were given a short lesson about our snow tubes. We were told that we could hook them together, if only one person looped one of their hooks through one of the handholds in the other person's tube. We were also told not to place our asses at the bottom of the tube because no one wants to feel pure icy bumps nearly break their tailbone.

"Yes," Marco answers enthusiastically. I laugh and loop my hook through the handhold on his tube.

"Okay, you push us off," I say.

Marco places a hand on the ground and smiles at me before pushing with everything he's got. The slide down the hill is slow at first, what with both Marco and I trying to get momentum but when both of us start sliding down we speed up really quickly and we're whooping on the way down the hill, feeling the cold wind whip through our hair and nip our faces. The ride down was brief but pretty damn satisfying. The cold air was a nice wake up slap.

When we reach the base of the hill we slide for a while before we finally stop. Both of us giggle and roll out of our tubes. We prop them on their sides and begin our little journey back. That higher part of the hill was great to go down but it's a farther trek to the pulley and we sometimes have to be wary of other people coming down the hill.

When we finally make it to the pulley I let Marco get on first. He's hooked up and sent up the hill. He smiles and waves at me as it's my turn to get sent up as well.

Soon we're both deposited at the top of the hill and ready for another round. This time once we get set up we don't hook ourselves together and grin at each other mischievously. A race is set up without either of us even saying anything.

"Whoever gets the farthest out wins," I say. I seat myself and place my hand on the ground behind me, ready to push off.

"One," Marco says once he's copied my stance.

"Two," I continue.

"Three!" Marco and I say at the same time and we push off. We slide down slowly again before speeding back down. The wind ripping at our coats and my beanie nearly falling off at one point because of it. We laugh all the way down and look at each other competitively. We slide to a stop and measure where our tubes are. Marco ends up in front.

"Oh yeah!" Marco says and stands up. I follow suit and smile at his ridiculous little victory dance.

"We didn't even agree on what the winner got or what the loser had to do," I realize. Marco stops his dance and considers for a moment.

He grins, having found something he obviously likes. "Loser has to kiss the winner."

Hm," I say and step forward, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck. "That doesn't sound too bad."

"Not at all," Marco says. I lean forward and press our lips together for a while before pulling back.

"Your lips are cold," I state.

"Yours are too," Marco says.  

"I knew I should have brought scarves," I say.

"Wait, hang on," Marco says and pulls back from me. He zips his coat all the way up and pulls at the collar until it's covering half of his face. This creates a weird looking Marco who seems to have no neck and pretty high shoulders. 

I laugh before pulling his collar down enough to kiss him. "You're a fucking dork, you looked ridiculous you know."

"But my face is warm," Marco reasons.

I laugh a little more as we get together our tubes and bring them back up the hill.

We repeat the process of going up and down the hill until we're too cold and tired to continue. It was a lot of fun for something that could seem monotonous.

Sometimes we would go down together, shouting as we went down. Other times we would race down and at the base of the hill the loser would kiss the winner before we went back to the pulley, the snow crunching under our boots as we walked. Each time we stopped our ride down I would smile at Marco's flushed and beaming face. He looked happy to be here. I'm glad that I actually got to take him some place like this before it started getting warmer.

On our last round we went down together, giggling the entire way down.

Finally, we came back up and turned in our snow tubes.  

"Did you have fun?" I ask once we settle into our car. 

Marco hums. "I did." He leans over and kisses me slowly before pulling away enough to whisper against my lips. "Thank you, Jean."

"Anything for you, Marco," I whisper back. We kiss one more time before I pull the car out of the lot. "So, what do you feel like eating? Because I tried finding a place but I'm pretty sure they're all crazy busy."

"By the time we get back it'll be five right?" Marco asks. I nod. "How about a movie on Netflix and take out?"

"Babe, you're a genius," I say. Marco laughs and we continue on our way back home.

* * *

 We make our hour long drive being complete dorks and singing -well actually, shouting- any song that came up on the radio. Before we got to my house we went to a cheap Chinese place and got some food. I got chicken lo mein noodles and Marco ordered kung pao chicken.

Now we're sitting in front of my TV, eating from our cartons and scrolling through Netflix.

"Do you wanna watch a romance movie?" I ask. "Get into the Valentines Day mood?"

"Okay," Marco says cheerfully, tucking his feet underneath him.

I go into the romance section and browse a little while before a title catches my eye.

"How about this one?" I ask.

"To be honest, that looks stupid," Marco says.

"It looks funny," I say. Marco looks at the screen doubtfully before sighing.

"Fine," he relents.

I start the movie and settle back onto the couch. Marco drops his head onto my shoulder, scooping another forkful of food into his mouth.

After the first twenty minutes of the movie play we pause it and stare at the screen in horror.

"Um, do you want to keep watching this?" I ask.

Marco shakes his head quickly. "No. No, I really don't."

I place the controller in his hands. "You can pick the next movie, angel."

"Why did you even choose that in the first place? With the cover and it actually being called Another Gay Movie it was obviously going to be crappy," Marco grumbles.

"I thought it looked funny I didn't think my eyeballs would lose their virginity," I say.

"I thought once _you_ lost your virginity your eyes did too," Marco says. I lean down and kiss him.

"I lost my virginity to a beautiful guy, there are some horrors that I haven't seen yet," I murmur.

Marco hums and kisses me back. I take the controller from his hands and scroll through some more when we separate.

"Let's watch Silver Linings Playbook," Marco suggests.

"You just say that because you're in love with Jennifer Lawrence," I say.

"She's a goddess," Marco points out.

"Can't argue with that," I say. I start the movie and Marco curls into my side. I kiss the top of his head and settle in.

Throughout the movie we eat our dinner and when they're done I set the cartons on the coffee table and lie down with Marco on the couch. He lies on top of me and in between my thighs. It's the perfect position for me to stroke his hair. 

When the movie is finally over we stretch and sit up. I plant a lazy kiss onto his mouth and smile.

"Do you wanna watch another movie," I ask.

"Not when a really sexy guy is right in front of me, ready for kissing," Marco says.

I drape my arms over his shoulders, scooting forward. "Same here."

Marco laughs and drags me forward. I kiss him softly, the taste of the spices on Marco's lips make mine tingle slightly.

I scoot forward until I'm sitting on Marco's lap. I grind down on him and sigh into his mouth.

He greets my tongue with his and our kissing gets a little more heated. 

Our hips move together and the sounds of our kissing drift through the room. 

"God I'm really glad my parents aren't here," I say, before sweeping down and kissing him again. "Let's go to my room, yeah?"

"Yes," Marco sighs. He stands up abruptly, taking me with him. I make a surprised noise and wrap my legs around his waist and tighten my arms around the back of his neck so I don't fall. I feel Marco's hands on my ass and I wiggle my hips just a little bit. Marco groans and squeezes.

I trail kisses up his neck as he walks us around the couch.

"I'm going to have to put you down baby because I'm weak as hell," Marco says. I bite his neck before moving my legs down from around his waist and setting my feet on the ground. 

I tug at Marco's shirt and he takes it off, getting the hint. I copy him and kiss him before grinning at him.

"Race you to the bed," I say and shoot off, going up the stairs, hearing Marco giggle behind me.

I throw open the door of my room and turn around. Marco's right there and wrapping his arms around my waist. His fingers play with the hem of my pants and I step back. I pull them down and kick them off. As soon as Marco sees what I'm doing he follows suit. While he gets his pants off effortlessly my foot gets caught and I fucking trip and just barely make it onto my bed.

Marco laughs and I join him. He crawls on top of me and we start grinding and kissing again.

After a time he trails his lips down my face and neck until he reaches my collarbone where I feel him suck a mark onto me. I moan and move my hips up to his, feeling his erection against mine.

"I want you," I say, my mouth moving before my brain can catch up. "Fuck me, Marco."

Marco moans and puts his forehead on my chest. "Are you sure, Jean?"

While I said it without really thinking now that I have a moment to sit back and ponder on what I really want. I really fucking want to feel Marco that way. He felt so amazing last week, and he  _looked_ so amazing. I want to see what makes it so good and I want Marco to be the one to show me something as intimate as that.

"Yes, I'm sure," I say. Marco takes a shuddering breath.

He kisses me on my lips one more time, fucking his tongue into my mouth and groaning before tugging on my hips, prompting me to turn over.

I roll over onto my stomach, trusting Marco with whatever he's doing.

"Hurts less this way," Marco explains.

I reach over to the dresser and reach into the depths of my drawer where the lube is buried. I take it out and Marco takes it from my hand gently, placing a kiss on my cheek before disappearing behind me.

I hear the pop of the lid and feel my underwear get dragged down. I sigh and take them off the rest of the way quickly before resuming my original position.

Marco lifts my hips and spreads my thighs.

"I'm going to put my finger in now," Marco says. I nod, resting my forehead on my arms and waiting for the first touch. 

It's cold when it finally it comes.

"Is lube ever fucking warm?" I wonder out loud.

Marco chuckles. "We can make it warm."

I groan at his words and move my ass back. 

His finger finally makes his way to my entrance, spreading lube there, making me sigh. Then he puts the first finger in. I moan and move back onto his finger slowly before I feel his first knuckle go inside of me.

I groan and still myself, concentrating on relaxing. Marco finally begins thrusting his finger once I start moving my hips again. 

He kisses my lower back and I feel his breath puff over my skin. 

"You're so amazing, Jean," he murmurs. I move my hips back harder and whine. 

Marco chuckles and I feel a second finger come up to join his first. He eases it into me and when he's finally settled I moan. 

We play the waiting game again until Marco starts moving his fingers. I make embarrassing little whining noises when he starts scissoring, moving my hips back for more.

He trails kisses up my back which are really just whispers of his lips over my skin.

He brings a third finger up and circles my hole. I shift back onto his fingers, taking him deeper and getting used to the stretch that I haven't experienced yet.

I let out a shaky moan and spread my legs wider for him. Marco's lips trail paths up my back until he gets to my head where he moves around and bites the shell of my ear. At the same time he reaches around me and begins stroking my heavy cock. 

I thrust shallowly in his grip, searching for more.

"Marco- fuck," I whine.

"Are you ready?" he asks.

"Fuck yes," I breathe.

He kisses my upper back before pulling back. I sift through the drawer again and look for the pack of condoms that I got yesterday. I bring the box out and Marco takes them from my shaky hand. I drop back into position and wait for Marco to get ready.

I can hear Marco rustling around behind me followed by the crinkle of the package. I look over my shoulder and watch Marco roll the condom on. Fuck, down here he's starting to look really big. I moan quietly at the thought of him inside of me. I drop my head again and wait for him to lube himself up.

Finally I feel something nudge against me and I hold my breath. Marco leans over me and kisses my cheek.

"You alright?" he asks. I nod and lift my hips a little more.

He wraps a hand around my left hip and steadies me as he presses into me. I moan and tense at the thick intrusion.

Marco rubs my back and makes soothing noises. "Relax baby, I'll take care of you."

I let out a breath and force my muscles to lose their tenseness. Marco's got me. There's no reason to be nervous. He's been so good to me so far.

Marco moves into me some more and I groan. I'm not used to being stretched this far. The most that I've gone is two fingers.

To be honest this is a little uncomfortable. But I force myself to remain relaxed. It can't be too bad if Marco was able to look that blissed out last week. Although, he does have more experience than me.

He leans over me and I feel his weight on my back, his breath tickles the back of my neck. The the skin of his stomach slides over the skin on my back and we slot together.

Marco continues pressing into me slowly and he keeps moving forward until I feel his hips against my ass. He holds still and pants right next to my ear.

I turn my head and catch his lips in mine. We kiss for a long time, out tongues messily moving in each other's mouths. I move back onto him and moan into his mouth.

"Move, Marco," I say. He kisses me one more time before withdrawing, setting both of his hands on my hips. He pulls out and thrusts shallowly into me.

I bite my hand and try to stifle the loud moan that threatens to make its way into the room. 

Marco stays still for a moment before pulling back again and doing the same thing over again. Soon he establishes a stead rhythm. After a time he starts changing the angle of his hips and I know he's looking for my sweet spot.

After a few more tries he finds it and I shout, arching my back down towards the mattress.

"Fuck, right there," I gasp.

"You like that baby?" Marco asks.

"God yes," I say. I bow down a little more and move my hips back onto him eagerly. 

Marco moans and starts thrusting his hips at the perfect angle and it's so fucking  _good._

Shock waves of pleasure course through my body whenever he hits me there. It makes it impossible for me to concentrate, much less control the volume of the moans I let out. Which are more shouts to be honest.

"F-faster," I say. I mentally pat myself on the back for managing to form an entire word.

Marco complies and soon he's thrusting so good and so fast into my ass. I keep arching my back and hips and clutching at the covers underneath me.

The small sound of Marco's hips hitting me and the sound of his beautiful moans almost makes me come undone.

Marco drapes himself over me again and wraps his arms around my torso, still thrusting at a steady pace. His rhythm falters a few times and he moans into my hair.

"Jean, 'm gonna cum soon," he says.

"Me too, Marco. Fuck, you feel so good," I moan.

Marco wraps his hand around my dick. I shout at all of the sensations. The feel of the bed sheets and the smell of sex and musk. The sound of Marco's voice and our skin slapping together. The feeling of him inside me and his hand stroking me gently.

I buck back onto him.

"God, Marco I'm close," I say. He thrusts into me  _hard_ and I think I see fucking stars. He hits me right on my prostate with force that feels so damn good. He has me shouting and melting right into his fingers.

He keeps thrusting so perfectly and I try to hold on as long as I can because I want to hold onto this feeling of being connected with Marco and this intense pleasure. But all those hits to my sweet spot do me over and I'm cumming into Marco's hand. Hard.

My hips move with his and he loses his rhythm. Moaning and slamming into me sporadically before I feel him cum too. 

He rides out his orgasm with shallow thrusts until he finally stills and slumps against my back, breathing heavily.

After a minute where the both of us try to capture our breath again Marco finally pulls out. I never like that feeling. Not when it was just his fingers and not right now. Especially not now because I feel strangely empty without him there. 

I roll over and Marco is tying off the condom. He has to get off the bed and throw it in the trash though and I have to get up and find tissues to clean up my mess with. 

We work together and tiredly clean up. Finally we collapse into bed together, Marco holding his phone. 

"I wanted to show you this song that I found," Marco says, once I snuggle into his chest. "I heard it on Spotify on of the romance playlists. And I kind of think of you every time I hear it now."

I smile and press my face to his chest. "You're adorable. Play it, I'm ready."

It takes a few taps on Marco's phone before the music starts playing. The piano drifts through the speakers for a little while before the girl starts singing. I listen and grin at the lyrics.

I listen to it in silence. Extremely happy that Marco associated a cute song like this with me. With us.

When the song finally fades out I kiss him sweetly.

"Does this mean we have a song now?" I ask.

Marco hums in thought. "Yeah, this could be our song."

"I'd love that," I say. I nuzzle our noses together and smile. "You know what else I love?"

"What's that?" Marco asks. 

"I love you," I say, singing it just like in the last line of the song.

Marco laughs and kisses the top of my head. "I love you too."

We lie in silence for a while before I remember that I was supposed to give him his candy and bear.

"Your presents are on the desk by the way," I say. Marco looks behind him and smiles.

"Thank you," he says. "I didn't notice them at first."

"That's gotta be a first. Normally people would notice a giant bear like that in the room," I say.

"I was a little preoccupied," Marco says.

I laugh and trace patterns on his chest and sides. I feel my eyelids getting heavier.

Marco's breath evens out. He's not asleep yet I can tell by the way he still lazily strokes my hair and moves down my back at times.

I close my eyes and smile like a fucking idiot. I think this is home. Right here in Marco's arms. Because I'm extremely happy here.

* * *

 "Jean, Marco! Wake up!" my mom says. I think she's standing in the doorway but I really can't be sure. I'm just going to assume she's down the hall or something so I can groan and kiss Marco awake.

My thoughts stop there. Marco's here. In my bed. The day after Valentines Day -or on Valentines Day I don't even know anymore. We're both completely naked. My mom is here and my dad probably is too. My mom knows Marco's in here.

Eventually my fuzzy thoughts connect together and my eyes open in horror. My mom caught us on the fucking morning after _again._  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that Marco played for Jean is [right here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=btgzttXxp7o) if you want to listen to it. And I'm really really sorry this chapter is late, I had a hard time with it for some reason. It won't happen again, promise!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter after this one is the last chapter. After that we're going to go into the epilogue and it'll be done. Thank you for everyone who has given kudos or commented or just picked it up and read it :)  
> Also, I'm sorry this fic has been getting kinda crappy, I 'm starting to think I lost it somewhere back in Christmas, it's been so poorly written and I've been having so much trouble with it since then ;-; So yeah, I'm going to try to get the quality up for the last two chapters!

The scratch of the pencil over paper has always been soothing to me. The lines that flow from the tip of a pencil or pen can be one of the most wonderful things you've set your eyes on. And when those lines become an entire picture, overlapping and making their crazy patterns  _mean_ something it gets even better. 

Especially when that picture is a happy moment. A happy moment that's happening to  _you_. It's indescribably amazing.

Those lines that I'm drawing right now are going to become a picture. A nice picture of the boy that I'm in love with. 

Yesterday it was a memory of my friends being idiots, taking the form of lines on a white page. I think it was okay looking, it still needs some work.

Unlike yesterday though, I'm feeling good about this picture today. I think it helps that I've memorized every single freckle that is painted onto his skin, every dip and curve of his muscle and every expression on his face.

Marco stirs tiredly and reaches out to me, clutching onto the hem of my shirt and sighing when his fingers brush my skin. I card my fingers through his hair, his bangs flopping back into place when my fingers reach the ends of the strands. His lips curl into a small smile and he nuzzles into the pillow, obscuring part of his face from my view.

I make quick adjustments to my drawing, wanting to capture him like this. I can never get tired of his sweet smile and his soft expressions, especially when they're directed towards me. I still wonder sometimes how I was able to get lucky enough to deserve an expression like that. 

I continue sketching, letting the lines braid together once again.

After a time Marco stirs again. His breathing picks up and his hand tightens around my shirt for a moment before he opens his eyes. He looks a little panicked before he sees me and then he relaxes. He tucks his arm under the pillow and smiles.

"Morning, baby," Marco says sluggishly.

"Well it's more like afternoon now," I quip, leaning down and catching his lips for a brief moment.

"Your fault. You were the one keeping me up last night," Marco grumbles.

"I didn't hear you complaining," I retort. I set my sketchpad down and hold him. I feel the last of the tension in his body slowly seep out of him. "Are you good?"

"Yeah," he says. His breath puffs over my collarbone warmly, the tip of his nose tickling my skin.

I've become used to this. Having Marco cling to me after some bad memory waltzes it's way into his dream. He'll wake up then and I'll hold him, or he'll hold me, whichever one makes him feel better. 

On these mornings I can't even imagine what it's like for him when he's alone. When he wakes up to the cold of his room with no one there to comfort him and make him warm again. So I hold him tight because he doesn't have to feel afraid, or sad when he's here with me.

"Tomorrow's March you know," Marco says thoughtfully.

"Really?" I ask. I didn't realize that before. Time is a weird thing for me when I'm with Marco. It flies by but at the same time it feels like it stretches on forever. Even in my memories, sometimes I can't grasp time. There are times when I look back on a point in my life and wonder why Marco wasn't there until I remember I hadn't met him yet. This feeling of knowing Marco for a little over two months and knowing him forever is wonderfully confusing.

I've known Marco for so long and not long enough.

"We're getting closer to the end of the school year," Marco says. "And acceptance letters are coming."

"Haven't you already gotten in?" I ask. He nods.

"What about you? Have you figured anything out?" Marco asks.

I have. I've found that I want to go to art school. There's one that's relatively close to Marco's college that I've had my eye on. And, after some thinking, I've found out that I want to get a place with Marco. I want to wake up to his face everyday. I want him to inspire me everyday before I go and make my art. 

"I  _have_ figured some stuff out," I say. 

Marco kisses my collarbone. "And what would that be?"

"It's a secret," I say. Marco harrumphs.

"That's not an answer," Marco pouts. 

I laugh. "I'll tell you once we get all the college stuff sorted."

"Fine," Marco relents. I chuckle and press him further into me. He wraps his arms around my waist and adjusts himself. He sighs and I feel that rush of adoration that has been growing in my chest since, well, since I've met him I think.

"I love you," I whisper into his ear.

Marco turns his head and presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth. "I love you too."

He rolls over so he's lying on his back and I follow him, resting my head on his firm chest. I start trailing my fingers up and down his stomach, tracing non-existent patterns that connect his freckles together, feeling his abs contract when I start wiggling my fingers.

He laughs softly. "Stop."

"More?" I ask. I grin and move my fingers to his ribs.

"How did that sound anything like more?" Marco asks, his giggles getting louder. He makes a grab at my hands. I yank them back before pouncing onto him and sitting in his lap. 

I try a different tactic and kiss him. I can feel his smile against my lips. I lick at his bottom lip and he groans, resting his hands on my hips. I take the opportunity to dig my fingers into his sides and wiggle them around. 

Marco pulls away from me with a squeak. He tries to curl away from me, laughing hard now.

"Th-that w-wasn't f-f-fair," he says between gasping breaths and bouts of laughter. I feel my lips stretch into a huge grin and laugh along with him. 

He convulses underneath me, trapped between me and the mattress as I relentlessly tickle him. Tears leak from the corners of his eyes and he's grinning like the Cheshire cat. When he starts turning a little red and he turns silent and his body jerks with laughter I finally relent and lift my hands away from his sides.

His laughter dies down until he's able to catch his breath. I wipe at the wetness around his eyes with a -slightly evil- giggle. 

Marco lets in one more breath and releases it with a chuckle.

"I didn't know you could be such a jerk," he states, dragging me down until I'm lying on top of him. I laugh and kiss his nose.

"I'm your jerk," I say.

"And my nerd and loser as you've said before," Marco says with a smile.

"Yup. And you're my angel," I say, resting our foreheads together. Marco giggles at that. 

"I guess I am."

* * *

 The afternoon is spent lazing around the house as per usual. We watch TV, make lunch for ourselves, which is mac and cheese with cut up hot dogs because we're actual five year olds. My mom wakes up at three o' clock and we spend a while just talking amongst ourselves. She switched to training now that her classes are mostly over and she's been spending most of the night out, working. It's nice to talk to her at length now a days, when she's been so exhausted.

Marco ends up having to go at around four. His dad calls for him, telling him that he should come home. Marco tells me that his dad didn't send any specifics but he thinks he should do what he says. He says that his parents and him are getting closer and he wants to stay on good terms with them.

He still doesn't bring me around unless his parents are out but I guess he's been cutting down on the number of times he spends the night here. He doesn't stay on the weekdays anymore, which is good I think. I hope he's doing it because he's feeling more comfortable around his house and not out of obligation.

We leave with my mom hugging Marco goodbye and kissing his cheek before finally letting us go.

When we get to Marco's place we spend a good while kissing each other goodbye in the car.

We jump away from each other though when there's a knock on the window that scares the fuck out of both of us.

Marco swivels his head around to the source of the noise and I glare ahead of us before I realize who has decided to pay us a visit. 

Mrs. Bodt is waving at us, her face framed by the bordering of the window. I really hope she didn't just see me with my tongue in her son's mouth.

Marco blanches before looking at me again.

"Um, I think that's my cue to leave," he says. He smiles at me and kisses my cheek before getting out of the car. "Mom, what are you-"

He never finishes his question because Mrs. Bodt places a hand on his shoulder and leans down to address me. "Would you like to come in for a little while, Jean?"

I blink in surprise and look towards Marco for guidance. If he doesn't want me to come in I'll politely decline, but if he doesn't mind I'd like to come in and speak to his parents.

Marco finally catches my questioning gaze and offers a small smile. It's okay.

"I'd love to," I reply cheerfully. Mrs. Bodt's face softens with relief. I get out of the car and Marco shuts the passenger side door.

We meet on the other side and Marco immediately laces our fingers together. His mother takes note of it but doesn't say anything and leads us up to the house.

We all pile into the foyer and Mrs. Bodt shouts into the house. "Marco's home and we have a guest!"

Footsteps bound in from the living room and Ace and Adelina appear in front of us.

"Marco and Jean!" they exclaim at the same time. They come bounding towards us and jostle us with hugs. I laugh and hug each of them in turn. With the few times I've been here I've managed to get them to be  _fond_ of me. And I've become fond of them too.

"Come on, Jean. I have to beat you today!" Ace says. He grabs my hand and pulls me to the living room. The last time I was over we played some more Mario Kart and I just barely beat Ace.

"A rematch, huh?" I ask. Ace nods and tugs at my hand again. I grin and swing him into my arms and over my shoulder. "You're on, kid."

I look behind me and smile at Mrs. Bodt and Marco who are watching the scene. Marco's smiling softly. Every time he does that when I'm messing around with his siblings I wonder what it would be like if we had kids.

The squirming boy on my shoulder brings my attention back to him and I zoom into the living room. He's giggling over me and half-heartedly trying to get away from me. I toss him onto the couch and tickle him for a moment, causing him to shriek in delight. I finally release him with a laugh. He scrambles upright and flies off of the couch to go looking for the controllers.

I plop myself down on the well worn cushions with a small smile.

"He's not that outgoing with anyone outside of the family," a voice says from my side. I turn my head to see Mrs. Bodt and Marco behind her, making his way to the couch. 

"It took a little while to get him to warm up to me," I say.

"Yeah, like, two babysitting jobs," Marco remarks. He sits next to me. He's close enough that our the entirety of our thighs are pressed together.

I flick my eyes to his face and he looks nervous yet determined. 

Ace hands me a controller and darts away excitedly so he can turn on the gaming system.

"Come  _on_ daddy, Ace is about to beat Jean at Mario Kart," Adelina says loudly. Feet thump down the stairs and through the hallway until Adelina and a man I've never seen before but know immediately as Mr. Bodt come into the living room.

Mr. Bodt is tall, just like his wife. He's well built and he has the freckles that coat Marco's face. His hair is a few shades lighter than Marco's and his eyes, a few shades darker. His presence is a little intimidating and when he makes eye contact with me I shoot up from my seat. 

"I- it's nice to finally meet you sir," I say. "I'm Jean Kirschtein, your son's-"

"His boyfriend," he finishes for me. He strides forward and extends his hand. I take it and give him a firm handshake.

I look him straight in the eyes when I say, "Yes."

"Nice to meet you too," Mr. Bodt says, a small smile curling his lips. Ah, Marco's famous smile must come from Mr. Bodt as well as his freckles. He gestures back to the space on the couch, next to Marco. "Sit, we have some things we have to talk about."

"Why don't you guys go upstairs?" Mrs. Bodt suggests to Adelina and Ace.

They both groan and Ace complains, "But Jean and I were going to play Mario Kart."

"We can play afterwards, bud," I say.

Ace sighs but follows his sister upstairs, after punching me playfully on the arm and saying, "I'm totally going to kick your butt later."

When the living room is silent with the twins gone Mr. Bodt finally speaks.

"Jean, we would like to know how serious you are about our son," Mr. Bodt says. "This isn't a fling on your part is it?"

"No, no it's not I-" I look towards Marco and smile. "I love him."

Marco ducks his head and blushes. A small smile graces his lips and he slips his fingers between mine.

"I love him too," Marco states. 

When I look back at Mr. and Mrs. Bodt they're staring at each other, having a silent conversation. They finally glance back towards us after what feels like forever.

"I'm assuming Marco has filled you in on what's happened to him," Mrs. Bodt says. Her voice and posture are all business, but her eyes are screwed shut.

"Yes," I say. I squeeze his hand, feeling the warmth of it and the smooth feeling of his skin, grounding me and grounding him, so that he knows I'm here and he doesn't have to go through this alone. **  
**

"We moved here because of that," Mrs. Bodt explained. "Marco was harassed constantly when we lived in Shiganshina. Even when we pulled him out of school it was scary going out in public. No one bothered to put the kids who hurt him in jail and that made us all afraid to let him out of the house. So we moved here. It's a very liberal community and the people are nice. But you have to understand, Jean, sometimes we get scared."

"We just want to protect Marco and we're terrified that there will be a repeat of what's already happened," Mr. Bodt continues. "But we're realizing that because we wanted to protect him, we've been becoming just as bad as the people who would sneer at him on the streets."

Mrs. Bodt moves from her perch on the armrest of the recliner and seats herself next to Marco. She wraps her arms around her son and hugs him tight.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie," she says. Marco releases a shuddering breath and wraps his arms around his mom.

"It's okay, mom," he says. 

His mother hugs him tightly before finally releasing him and directing her eyes towards me. "I'm truly sorry for the way I treated you when I found out you were Marco's boyfriend."

"It's alright, really," I say. I understand now why they were so callous. I think I would be hesitant to like my kid's relationships if their life seemed to be always in question.

"It's not okay," Mrs. Bodt moves until she's crouching in front of me, her hands resting on my knees. "You are a wonderful young man. Thank you for taking care of Marco when we weren't."

She crushes me into a hug like she did with Marco. I hesitantly place my hands on her back before she pulls away. She smiles at me and pats my cheek before withdrawing back onto the recliner.

"We're not going to pretend that everything is okay now," Mr. Bodt said. "We might still lapse back into our scared behavior, but we'll try our hardest not to. It's not fair to you two to let our fear dictate your relationship."

"Thank you, guys," Marco says. He laces our fingers together and I squeeze.

They smile at us and Mrs. Bodt looks towards me. "I know you were originally supposed to just drop Marco off, but would you like to stay a little longer?" 

I smile. "Yeah, I'll stay."

Footsteps come pounding down the stairs and Ace emerges from the hallway.

"Now I can beat you at Mario Kart!" Ace exclaims and bounds into the living room. I chuckle and catch the controller that he tosses to me.

"Macey, were you eavesdropping?" Mrs. Bodt asks with a raised eyebrow.

Ace stops and turns towards us with a bowed head. "It was only a little bit."

"Ace it's not good to eavesdrop," Mrs. Bodt scolds him lightly.

"Yes, momma," Ace says. 

Mrs. Bodt sighs. "Okay, go play with Jean."

Ace beams at the permission and gets everything ready excitedly.

"We're going to get dinner ready," Mr. Bodt says, getting up, Mrs. Bodt following him. They head out of living room and into the kitchen.

I take the time that it takes for Ace to get set up to text my mom.

**To Mom: im going to stay over at marcos place for a while im finally talking to his parents so i thought i should stay for a little longer**

**From Mom: thts fine dear! good luck! <3**

**To Mom: thanks mom**

That ends our texting conversation and I'm moving to sit side by side on the floor with Ace, ready to start the first lap.

Marco slips down on the ground. He settles down behind me, his chest pressed against my back and his face resting on my shoulder. My legs are framed by his and his arms are wrapped around my torso.

I settle back into him and Ace and I start the race.

Throughout the entire game we're tied until Marco decides to tamper with the racers. He tickles my sides and I become too busy trying to squirm away from him and laughing to pay attention to where the hell I'm going on the road.

Ace ends up creaming me because of Marco and I punch Marco's arm.

"You helped Ace cheat!" I accuse him.

"And I beat you!" Ace declares, doing a little victory dance around the living room.

"Alright, alright you got me," I say, leaning back into Marco's chest again.

"Sorry, had to get the race over with," Marco whispers into my ear. "Do you want to go up to my room?"

I smile and nod. "I think that'd be awesome."

Marco laughs, jumping up. I reach for his hand and drags me up with him.

"Where are you going?" Adelina asks, coming in from the kitchen.

"We're just going to my room," Marco answers. We try to sneak past Adelina with sheepish grins. She finally steps out of the way and rolls her eyes.

Marco and I skirt around her before running through the hallway and up the stairs. I pinch his ass playfully on our way up and he yips before grinning and rushing to his room faster. 

When we finally reach his room he swings the door shut and practically pounces on me. I lean up against the empty wall space behind the door. 

He follows me, not about to let our lips separate just yet. He finally pulls away with a little gasp that makes me dizzy. 

"I've been waiting to do that since my parents said it was okay," Marco says, kissing my cheek. 

"I'm happy for you, Marco," I say. We slowly move away from the wall with the intent of getting to the bed but we don't get very far before Marco's holding me again. 

We're swaying slowly in the middle of his room. His fingers are tracing my face and he looks like he's looking at the most precious thing in the world.

It's such a small moment, with the both of us looking into each other's eyes and rocking ever so slightly. But it's one of those moments that I'm positive I'm going to remember for the rest of my life. 

We kiss there in the middle of his room. His arms move around me, enveloping me in his warmth and bringing me closer. 

I cup one side of his neck and move my other hand to tangle in his soft, dark hair.

We tilt our heads and open our mouths, deepening the kiss. Our tongues tangle together and our hands roam around each other's bodies. We don't stop rocking back and forth. The taste and feel of each other sends us into a trance and soon a long time passes without us even realizing.

That is, until Adelina and Ace come barging into the room and we have to spring apart.

"Y-you guys should really knock you know," Marco scolds them.

"Yuck, you two were kissing," Ace observes.

"Is that what you ran away to go do?" Adelina asks.

"I-it doesn't matter," Marco says quickly. "What did you two come up here for?"

"Mom and dad are done with the food," Ace announces. "Come on."

Ace and Adelina scramble down the stairs, apparently having forgotten what they just witnessed us doing.

I laugh and take his hand, dragging him towards the door that was left ajar.

"I really want to kiss you though," Marco whines. I chuckle and peck his lips once, twice, before dragging him out with me.

"Everyone would definitely get suspicious if we stayed up here any longer," I say. Marco sighs -a little louder than necessary- and follows me downstairs.

"Our dining table is too small for all of us, is it okay if we sit in the living room?" Mrs. Bodt asks me when we reach the bottom of the stairs.

I smile. "Yeah, that's fine with me."

Ace, Adelina and Mr. Bodt emerge from the kitchen with plates of food. Adelina hands one over to me which I take with a thank you. Mr. Bodt gives a plate to Mrs. Bodt and Ace gives one to Marco.

Everyone, now with their food, files into the living room where we take seats around the place. Mr. Bodt sits in the recliner and Adelina and Ace take seats on the armrests around him. Mrs. Bodt, Marco and I take our places on the couch. The same places we were earlier, when Mrs. Bodt was apologizing and hugging Marco.

Dinner is spent with Ace and Adelina trying to embarrass the crap out of Marco. They start off with making kiss-y faces towards the two of us and announcing that they caught Marco and I making out in his room. Marco looks mortified and hides his face behind his hands. That only encourages his siblings and they recount more embarrassing stories of Marco with cackles and finger pointing. They spend most of their time describing when Marco slipped on some ice and fell on his ass, forcing him to carry around a little donut pillow that he had to sit on because of his bruised tail bone. I had to bite back a lot of sarcastic comments about me bruising his tailbone during that time.

"We caught him watching weird videos too. He got so red!" Adelina says.

I chuckle at that. Did they catch freckled Jesus himself watching porn?

"Okay you guys can stop now," Marco says, shoveling the last of his food in his mouth. "Are we excused? Can Jean and I be excused now?"

"What? I'm still working on my food," I say. There's hardly anything on my plate but I can't help poking fun at Marco just a little bit.

"Yes, you're excused," Mrs. Bodt says with an amused smile. Marco stands and goes into the kitchen, with me trailing behind him.

We rinse our dishes in the sink and place them into the dishwasher. Once the cleaning is done Marco turns around and wraps his arms around my waist and groans.

I laugh and hug him to my chest. "Did the twins catch you watching porn?"

"Shut up, it was one time," Marco grumbles.

I laugh. Marco slowly raises his head and brings his lips to mine. When our lips finally meet we kiss deeply, sighing into each other's mouths and running our hands along any skin that we can find.

"Wanna go back to my room?" Marco asks.

"I wouldn't mind that," I answer. Marco laughs and nips at my bottom lip before leading me back to his room, our hands clasped together.

When we finally reach the confines of his bedroom he closes the door gently and we back up to his bed, occasionally darting our heads forward and giving a peck to each other's lips.

We fall back onto his bed, settling with Marco on top of me. I open my mouth for him and feel his tongue dip into my mouth. I meet him eagerly with mine. We squirm around on the bed, trying to get to the pillows without having to move away from each other. 

Marco breaks away from my lips to mouth at the skin on my neck. I groan when he licks me there.

"I really wish we had the house to ourselves," Marco says, flipping us around. I settle a leg between his and nip at his collarbone.

"My mom is working tonight," I say.

"Again?" Marco asks, wrapping his arms around my neck. "Isn't she exhausted?"

"Yeah, there's not much she can do about it though. She's switched from the classroom to hands-on training," I say, kissing up his neck.

"I know," Marco says. He sighs when I start sucking low on his collarbone. "Your house tonight then?"

I hum. "We'd be completely alone. No twins, no parents. Nice supply of lube and condoms in my nightstand."

Marco groans. "Your house. Definitely."

I glance at the clock on Marco's night stand. "We won't be alone until nine though."

Marco groans, sounding less happy this time around. "How long is that?"

"Little more than three hours," I answer.

"No," he groans again. "I don't know if I can wait that long."

"Are you going to get blue balls?" I tease, kissing him gently.

"Probably gonna die of it," Marco says. He sighs and I rest my forehead on his.

"Just be patient, angel," I say. Marco laughs and kisses me again.

* * *

 Marco's patience does eventually pay off and we leave his house at eight-thirty.

"You're leaving  _again?"_ Ace asks in exasperation.

"It's kind of our thing to stay over at Jean's on the weekends," Marco says. He ruffles Ace's hair and smiles. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"Do you always have to spend so much time with someone you're dating?" Adelina asks.

"Only if you really, really like them," Marco says. The twins come up and hug us goodbye before running off to the living room to play some more video games. 

"Be careful on the roads, you two," Mrs. Bodt says, following us to the door. She sounded a lot like my mother when she said that.

"Bye!" I say, waving at Mr. and Mrs. Bodt. We leave the house and hustle through the cold air before flinging ourselves into the car.

"It's March tomorrow does the Earth mind warming up a bit?" I complain.

"Maybe it's going to snow again before it becomes spring," Marco says.

"Maybe," I say, starting the car and pulling away from the house. "Hey, if it does do you want to build snowmen or something?"

"Yes," Marco answers immediately. We laugh and I drive us to my house.

When we finally get inside the nice warmth of my house my mom is rushing around, trying to get ready quickly so she can leave in time.

"Hi boys," she says once we find her in the kitchen gathering Red Bulls into her arms. Is it healthy to drink so many? "Sorry, I can't stay to chat, I have to leave soon."

She darts into the foyer and puts her shoes on at light speed before shrugging on her coat. She makes a list of the things she needs, patting around her pockets before nodding.

"I'm off! Be good, don't make a mess!" she says. She kisses both of us on the cheek before she whirls out the front door and off to her training,

"I think she's gotten a little crazier since dad left last week," I observe with a chuckle.

Marco smiles. "Maybe she just needs to sleep some more."

"Normally at this point I'd say I'm going to become a famous artist and get her all the money she deserves so she doesn't have to work so hard but my dad's already got that covered," I say. "She really wanted to do this and there really isn't much I can do to make it easier on her other than shopping, cleaning, and cooking for myself more."

"She'd probably be happy with that," Marco says. I lean into his side and nod, staring at the door my mom disappeared from.

"I wish I could get my dad around here more for her too," I say. "For both of us I guess." 

Marco hugs me and presses his face into my hair. It's all it takes to stop me from moping anymore and I kiss him cheerfully.

"Angst," I say in disgust.

"Angst," Marco agrees. We laugh and I place my hand over his chest.

"So," I say with a growing grin. "There was something we came over here to do."

"There was, wasn't there?" Marco says, licking his lips with a small smile. Oh god, he's going to be the end of me. 

I kiss him, once lightly before withdrawing. I smile at him and head up the stairs. I go to my room slowly, just to torture Marco a bit but his patience quickly runs out and he's pushing at my back, urging me to go faster.

On the way to my room I shirk off my shirt, throwing it aimlessly to the side of me. 

The sprint down the hallway is short but when we finally reach my room we're discarding every single piece of clothing we're wearing, throwing them everywhere in our impatience to feel our bodies together with no barriers between us. 

Once our underwear is off and lying in some space of the floor we're going to have to find tomorrow, we clash together. Our tongues and lips frantically searching for contact as we trip onto the bed.

I pull away enough to laugh at our clumsiness before Marco claims my lips again. 

My hand snakes down his body, feeling his smooth skin against my fingertips and the curve of his chest and abs. I finally reach his dick, hardening in anticipation. I take it and pump him fluidly, adjusting my grip to the way I've been finding he reacts to the most. 

Sure enough, after a few firm strokes he's groaning and lifting his hips, looking for more friction, more of my touch.

He reaches down and takes my mostly hard cock into his hands, his fingers wrapping around me. The warmth and firmness of them making me moan.

We tug at each other's erections for a little while, rubbing the slit on our heads and catching the pre-cum already leaking out of them. I withdraw though when the urge to feel Marco's warmth pressed against me, to be connected to that warmth becomes too strong.

I scrabble inside of my nightstand drawer before finally withdrawing the bottle of lube in victory. I slick my fingers with it quickly.

Marco spreads his legs, tugging on himself loosely, waiting for me to prepare him.

I finally press the first finger to his entrance and push in. He groans and I reach for his hand that's fisting into the covers. He squeezes my hand and we wait. 

I finally start thrusting into him with my finger when he gets loose enough for movement, repeating the process when I add another finger and another, all while holding onto his hand.

His tight heat around my three fingers is a preview of what's to come and it makes me move my hips back and forth blindly. Basically making me hump the fucking air.

"Jean," Marco whimpers. I kiss him on the lips before taking my fingers out, getting what he's asking for without words.

Some more sifting through my nightstand drawer is required before I can get a condom out. Marco takes it from my hands and rolls it onto me himself. I groan, as I feel the whispers of his fingers over my shaft when he's rolling the rubber onto me. 

When the condom is finally securely on I lube myself up and flip Marco onto his side. He lets out a surprised gasp before looking at my with questioning eyes over his shoulder.

"I want to try a new position," I explain, settling myself behind him. He nods and waits.

I lift his leg up into the air, my hand placed behind his knee. I steady myself and slowly press into him, feeling him stretch for my length and making me moan. 

Marco groans and reaches back, searching blindly, until his fingers finally entangle themselves into my hair.

I press forward slowly until I'm all the way in, the both of us panting now in our small break. I press a sloppy kiss to his shoulder and lick the shell of his ear before I slowly move my hips back and thrust forward again.

Marco keens and presses back into me, his fingers tightening in my hair. 

I rock my hips back and forth, pressing into his tight heat with a moan each time I go forward again.

Marco twists his head as far as he can and searches for my lips. I prop myself up on my elbow and lean over him, finally kissing him again. I shove my tongue into his mouth while at the same time quickly thrusting forward, leaving Marco a moaning mess underneath me.

In our heated kiss our teeth clack together and we bite too hard on each other's lips. But it's perfect. 

I start picking up the pace, snapping my hips forward and raising Marco's leg just a bit higher. Marco moans loudly as this angle allows me to hit his prostate.

"Right there, angel?" I ask, thrusting into that spot again.

"Fuck, right there, Jean baby," Marco moans. He drags my head down again for another kiss, moaning into my mouth and urging me on by moving his hips back onto me.

I make sure to hit him in his sweet spot with each of my thrusts, feeling my orgasm coming closer. 

"I'm right there Marco," I say, moving my hips more erratically, losing my rhythm.

"Faster, baby," Marco says. 

I put a foot down, flat on the mattress, giving me leverage to thrust faster and harder into him.

Marco moans, loudly, raggedly as he cums. I feel him tighten around me in his orgasm.

I shout and thrust into him frantically, my orgasm building before I finally cum inside of him. 

I roll my hips lazily, riding us out on the waves of pleasure still rolling through our bodies. 

I let his leg go but don't pull out. Instead kissing the back of his neck and shoulders. I wrap an arm around his chest and his hand meets mine over his heart. I can feel it's frantic beat slowing down and evening out underneath my fingers.

I finally decide to pull out, the both of us groaning at the loss. It takes all my willpower to sit up and take the condom off. I tie it but I don't even bother getting up and throwing it away. Instead, I aim for the trash can in my room and hope that I made it, despite _never_ having made it before when I scrapped failed art pieces.

I hand Marco a few tissues to clean up his cum with, before the sheets stain and throw those towards the trash can too. I'm going to have to get up and clean those at some point, before my mom can find the incriminating evidence. 

I flop back onto the mattress and Marco rolls around until we're staring at each other with our blissed-out grins still stretching our lips.

I'm about to tell Marco I love him, like I always do. But I hold back because the look he's giving me tells me he already knows and sometimes words aren't all that important. In fact, sometimes they ruin a perfect moment. So I smile at him softly and brush my fingers over his cheek.

His eyes tell me all I need to know. He loves me too.

 

  


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looking at college and the future is a little scary but, you know, once you get down to it it isn't that bad. Or maybe there are some people that have a gift of making it easier for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a time skip (of more than a year) in the middle of this one. I'll make it obvious with the really large break in between paragraphs that I'm going to have but I just thought I'd give you guys a heads up so I don't catch you too off guard.

The times when I was mopey and unsatisfied seem like a very far away dream at this point. 

It's because of Marco. Well, not just Marco alone. Marco was an important part of all of this but he isn't the sole reason for my happiness, as much as I love him. There's also my friends and my parents and the rest of the Bodt clan. There's also my art and my future. I mean, thinking about my future is still scary as hell but at least I know what I want to do with my life. I want to make art. Good art. The kind that people crowd around at art museums and whisper amongst themselves, pondering the meaning. And I want to look at them and listen to their interpretations. And I want Marco next to me, wearing that thick-banded ring that I saw on the eve of Valentine's Day. And I want to giggle with him when someone gets the meaning of the painting wildly wrong, but I won't mind. I won't correct them, because art is the kind of thing for the viewer, it doesn't matter what I originally intended. As long as  _I_ know and as long as I can share that little secret with Marco.

There are a lot of things I've realized. Things I've had for a long time whose value was hidden from me until Marco showed up and showed me the truth.

Marco's done a lot of things for me. In the background, expecting no thanks or credit. And I understand now why he says "thank you, Jean" so often. Because I guess I do the same for him.

"I got a letter in the mail yesterday," Sasha announces and fidgets in her seat. "It was for my first choice. The college that I  _really_ want to go to."

"Well?" Connie prompts. "What did it say?"

Sasha looks down at the black desk underneath us, ridden with who knows what kind of things.

"I got in!" Sasha says with a huge grin. 

There's a moment of silence where it sinks in to all of us sitting at the table, our still-not-entirely-awake brains trying to process the gravity of what Sasha's told us. Then there's a cheer and we collectively stand up and squish Sasha between us. Marco and I at her sides and Connie from the front. Embracing her and shouting in excitement, kinda like we're a football team that just won a game, or middle school girls, whichever floats your boat, they're both accurate.

Connie cups her chin and kisses her once before we finally let her go, all of us laughing. We ignore the stares of our confused classmates and go back to our seats, sitting down with happy grins.

Once the excitement settles down, Sasha leans forward and grins at me. "Now there's one member sitting at our table here that needs his college acceptance letter from his number one." 

Connie has gotten his. But it's one of the better universities on the other side of town, an hour away. It's good though, he's happy and I'm pretty sure that little bit of distance isn't going to affect his and Sasha's relationship at all, or any of his friendships. Now there's just me, waiting for a response. I've gotten accepted into all the other colleges I've applied to, but this one is the kicker. The art school that I really want to go to. Because it's a  _really_ good place to go to school and because it's close to Marco's college. The problem isn't the letter itself though, it's me because I'm a little bitch sometimes. 

"It's already arrived," I say. I drop my head onto the desk and sigh. "But I haven't opened it yet."

"When did it come by?" Connie asks. I groan and bury my face into the crook of my arm.

Marco rubs at my back and answers for me. "Saturday."

"Four days?" Connie exclaims. "You've had your letter for four days and you haven't opened it yet?"

"I'm nervous," I snap.

"And you've known that he's been procrastinating?" Sasha asks, rounding on Marco.

"Don't snap at Marco, I'm the one being a bitch," I say.

"Damn right you are," Connie says.

"That's it!" Sasha says. "We're going to your house over lunch. No food until you open the letter."

I peek up at them. "You'd really forgo food for me?"

Sasha nods in determination. "This is a problem we  _must_ fix."

"To Jean's house!" Connie says.

"In five hours!" Marco continues.

"Yeah, you're going to have to wait a while, buddy," Connie says.

* * *

 Those five hours that I have to wait make it hard for me to focus. Each minute that ticks by on the clock reminds me of what my friends are going to force me to do during lunch hour. It makes me nervous to finally see this thing that I've been putting off for a little while. Because what if it doesn't work out? 

I hope it does, because then I can get embarrassed over my fucking needless angsting and ask Marco to move in with me. 

I gather my things and stuff them into my locker, ready to get this thing over with. 

There's a tap on my shoulder and I look behind me with mild curiosity, until I see my favorite freckled face. I quickly shove the binder that I had been wrestling with into the disaster area that is my locker before I turn around completely.

I smile and give Marco a quick peck on the lips. "What are you doing here, angel?"

"I go to school here," Marco says with a grin. I roll my eyes.

"I mean you've only ever picked me up at my locker a few times before," I elaborate. 

Marco kisses me again and I take a step back so I'm leaning against the lockers. "I'm under strict orders to come and get you so you don't run away because according to Connie I'm the only one who can persuade you with sex."

"Is that the ultimate weapon?" I ask, resting my arms on his shoulders.

"Maybe," Marco answers with a smile. "It would certainly get  _me_ to do a lot of things."

"Looks like I have a new tactic," I say.

Marco hums and leans into me, kissing me gently. His lips gliding over mine until we're pressed more firmly together against the locker. I roll my tongue into his mouth, making him gasp and pull away.

"We're in school," he chastises me.

"Other people do it," I say.

"Yeah, freshman trying to be cool by flaunting their sex life," Marco says.

"I like to think that people who are ridiculously in love do this too," I answer. "I just can't keep my hands off of my angel."

Marco laughs and kisses my cheek. He pulls away and moves to shut my still open locker door. 

I grab my backpack from the ground. I don't even remember dropping it there but then again, I was kissing my cute boyfriend. Believe it or not, it's easy to get distracted when that happens.

"You know," I say, a vague memory from earlier this year resurfacing. "I used to want to make out with someone in front of my locker for revenge."

"Revenge?" Marco asks with a light chuckle.

"There was this couple that kept making out in front of my locker. It made passing periods really awkward," I explain. "I think they broke up though, I haven't seen them around."

"So you wanted to give them a taste of their own medicine?" Marco asks. He laughs and I join him.

"I know it was stupid. I'm not as bitter anymore," I say, finally closing my locker.

We turn and head off towards the cafeteria. Marco takes my hand in his.

Really looking back on it, it was kind of a petty goal and really fucking stupid. But _I_ was really fucking stupid so I guess it makes sense. 

We walk down to the cafeteria where Connie, Armin and Sasha are gathered.

"Were you guys making out or something, what took you so long?" Connie asks. "We thought you ran away, Kirschtein." 

"Never," I say. 

"Alright, let's  _go_ ," Sasha whines. "I know I said we weren't going to eat until you opened the letter so would you please hurry so we can get some fast food and stuff our faces afterwards?"

"Whoa," Armin says. "I was told that we were going to Jean's house. No one mentioned not having food."

"You guys can make sandwiches and chow down on the chips," I say. 

There's a chorus of ascending nods and agreements said amongst the group before we make our way outside.

We crunch over the snow that's left over from this morning. I can't fathom why it's still snowing in the middle of March, but it isn't too bad I guess. There's not enough to complain over to be honest. And enough is actually on the ground for Marco to look at and smile and go on one of his little spiels about how pretty the snow is. He's gotten to me with that. And now I'm inclined to agree with him.

We all pile into Connie's truck in our usual seating order. Myself in the middle with Armin and Marco on either side of me. Connie is driving and Sasha is in the passenger seat. 

My house is nice and warm and quiet when we step inside. Everyone kicks off their shoes and comes inside, heading straight for the kitchen.

"Be quiet guys, my mom's sleeping," I say. I pad up to my room to get the letter that has been sitting on my desk for the past four days.

There it is. The white against the light brown of my desk, looking way more intimidating than a piece of damn paper should. 

When I pick it up, it's heavy. Not physically heavy though, more like... more like the words in this hold so much power and I can feel it. I can feel them swaying over my head, daring me to look up and see if they're about to fall down and crush me or if they're going to float away and leave me feeling less afraid.

I clunk down the stairs, the thick envelope in my hands. I stop in front of my friends, the weight of their expectant gazes making me even more nervous.

Marco holds my hand, taking some of my burden and I breathe out. 

The first tear into the envelope is loud in the silence. It seems to run through the house as my finger drags under the flap, opening it slowly.

I reach inside and drag out the paper, the slight scrape it makes against the envelope the only sound in the room. I let the envelope fall to the floor and hold the letter in my hand.

Marco's hand moved to my lower back when I let him go and opened the damn thing. I focus on his touch and take another deep breath. In. Out.

And I read the letter.

I'm not entirely sure what the words say. They kind of all blend together, not really making any type of sense until I read the last word.

I look up and breathe the words. "I got in."

"He got in!" Connie and Sasha shout at the same time. And suddenly I'm in the arms of all my friends, like Sasha was this morning. We bounce around as one giant fucking mass and laugh like idiots.

"We're going to college!" Marco says. This is greeted with more cheers and claps on the back.

Marco wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me up, laughing like a maniac. I lean down and kiss him once before he sets me down again.

"What is going on?" my mom asks, trundling down the stairs. She's hastily wrapped herself in a robe and her hair is a damn bird's nest.

"You know that one art college that I can't shut up about?" I ask. My mom frowns, trying to figure out what the hell I'm talking about in her groggy state.

"What about it?" my mom asks, stifling a yawn.

I hold up the letter, causing it to flutter around in the air. "This is the _acceptance_ letter from them."

It takes her a moment then her eyes widen and she's rushing across the room. "You got in?" she asks.

"He got in!" everyone replies.

"Oh Jean-bo, that's amazing!" she exclaims and sweeps me into a hug. I think she crushes a few of my ribs in the process. For such a small woman she can be surprisingly strong. She pats my cheek and kisses the other side of my face that she isn't harassing. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks, ma," I say with a grin.

Finally, everyone backs up after a little more excited chatter and seats themselves to finish their sandwiches. 

My mom doesn't go back to sleep. She claims she's far too excited for something like that so she eats lunch with us as well. 

It's peaceful in it's own chaotic way, like it is all the time with my friends. We jump from speaking loudly and ecstatically about college to ponderous silences, our future a curious and not yet reachable thing. 

Eventually we have to pack up and we're all waving goodbye to my mom, who never bothered to brush her hair out or straighten her rumpled pajamas.

The drive back to school is shouting lyrics to perky songs that only lift our mood more, sending us into a crazy daze of happiness and anticipation. 

We find ourselves continuing on with our school day with quick goodbyes, before we become late for class. Marco and I kiss each other once before we separate and head off to our respective classes. 

And I realize that I'm a dumb ass because in all the excitement I forgot to pull Marco aside and ask him to live with me.

* * *

Another hour of sitting in the library before Marco gets off of school is done.

I've come to enjoy this hour because it always gives me time to work. I tend to only doodle at home until I sit myself down and force myself to get shit done, with "you can fucking do this" playing on repeat in my head. 

But at school the studious environment helps me focus and I tend to make better artistic decisions in the library for whatever reason. Not that I can't do that at my desk at home but I've also gotten into the habit of showing Marco what I've worked on after school and that part of me that wants to make him proud motivates me. 

Today I drew my little fantasy of what a college campus looks like. At least the main square. A tall building that looks a little like a cathedral is standing proudly in front of neatly cut grass fields. Those fields are littered with benches and trees and small figures that are the students. On the sides, cut off by the edge of the paper are some more buildings, containing classrooms or libraries or dorms. Whatever those types of buildings carry.

I hustle to our meet up spot, knowing he's going to be there already.

Sure enough, Marco is leaning against our normal table in the cafeteria. It's always normal moments like this when I'm struck with how much I love him. His frame might be highlighted by some sunlight streaming in from a window, making him look like some kind of deity. Or he could be lying in bed, in the dark, wrapped in blankets with a content look on his face. I think the only thing similar about scenes like this is that Marco is in them. And that's really all I need. 

Right now, he's looking a little bored scrolling through his phone. His backpack is bulging over his back like a turtle shell. He must have a lot of homework today. His left foot is crossed over his right and he's chewing on the inside of his cheek. His perfectly split bangs are hanging over the sides of his face and he's standing in front of the gray backdrop of the sky.

"Hey, angel," I say from his side.

He looks up at me with a smile and greets me with a chaste kiss. 

We walk to my car together, hand in hand, chatting about the two hours we spent apart.

"My house or yours?" I ask when I turn out of the parking lot. 

"Yours, there's always a lot more privacy," Marco says. 

"The twins are going to start missing you again," I point out.

"I think they can live without me for a couple of hours," Marco says. 

"I feel bad for hogging you," I say. I stop at a red light, feeling the purr of the engine underneath my feet as Freedom idles.

"Trust me," Marco says. "I don't mind."

"But what about Ace and Adelina?" I ask.

Marco smirks at me. "You just want to hang out with them don't you?"

"They keep beating me at Mario Kart! I need to bring my family honor," I state.

Marco laughs. "Okay, we can go to my house."

"I apologize in advance if I make your little sister cry because of my mad skills," I say.

Marco laughs again and I speed off with plans of finally beating Adelina in that god forsaken race course, Rainbow Road. 

After I give up on my plotting I think about that question I'm going to ask Marco. I really don't know how to bring it up. And I don't think I should be thinking this deeply into it but the amount of time that we've known each other is becoming glaringly obvious again. I don't want to ask him too soon. I mean, it's not like we're going to move in together right away. My parents are awesome and have some money set aside for me for living spaces as well as college, but it's just barely enough to get us started. We need jobs first that we can pay rent with and we also need to actually  _find_ a place. I don't want to go and look for one by myself. While that _might_ be a nice surprise I want it to be  _ours_. And picking out a place to stay together is important I think.

We pull up in front of Marco's house and I kill the engine. We step out of the car and look up.

"It's snowing again," Marco observes.

"It's fucking March now. Why?" I question.

Despite the month there are little flecks of snow that cascade down around us as we walk up to Marco's door. It's a light sprinkle of snow, so little that I don't think we can even count this as "snowfall" but it's still there. I don't really mind it much anymore.

"Marco?" his mother asks from the living room.

"And Jean!" I announce. 

"Hello boys," Mrs. Bodt says.

We pop around the corner, having taken off our shoes and wave at her.

"Hi, Mrs. Bodt," I say.

"Elena," Mrs. Bodt corrects me. "You're a member of the family at this point, don't use formalities, I've told you before."

"Yes, sorry," I say.

"Where are the twins?" Marco asks.

"They're over at a friends. There's a birthday party going on," Elena explains. "And your father is still at work."

"Oh, okay," Marco says, withdrawing a little already. "We're going to be in my room."

"Leave the door cracked," Elena reminds us. 

"Got it," we both reply. 

Marco and I rush up the stairs and to Marco's room.

Marco closes the door behind us and the familiar scent of Marco washes over me as I collapse onto his bed. I manage to roll myself up into his blankets and become a mess of limbs and cotton. 

There's a thud as Marco drops his heavy backpack onto the floor and he throws himself on the bed next to me.

We both groan as we finally feel our bodies relax and realize how fucking exhausted we are.

"Two more days," I say.

"But I have a feeling that I'm going to have a lot of homework over the weekend," Marco complains.

"That's what you get for taking all those AP classes, Mr. smarty pants," I say, squirming closer to him. It doesn't take long until my chest is pressed against his side thanks to his small bed.

He wraps an arm around me. We both sigh and settle onto his bed some more with closed eyes. I feel his thumb brush over my eyelids at one point and I peak an eye open.

"Hello," I say upon realizing that he's staring intently at me. 

"Hey," Marco says with a small smile. "You have nice eyelashes." 

I laugh. "Why, thank you. You have nice freckles."

Marco laughs softly, moving his thumb to run over my eyebrow. Now. Ask him now.

"Hey, Marco," I say quietly. He hums in acknowledgement and I continue. "There's something I've been wanting to ask you since I got my acceptance letter yesterday."

"What is it, baby?" he asks, still moving his thumb over my face. The feeling of the softness of his skin gliding over my face makes me close my eyes slowly before asking him.

"Do you want to move in together when we go off to college?" I ask.

"That sounds good," Marco says. We kiss each other, barely touching our lips together. But it's an important kiss. It's our step forward, Marco's three words of agreement and my question wrapped up with the feather light touch of our skin against each other's. It's a promise that we're in this for the long run.

Moving in together might not be that big a deal once we're actually doing it. But right now, it's big. I know it. And I know that Marco knows it as well from the way his arm tightens around me, bringing me just a little bit closer until I'm pressed up against him and the whispers of love puffing over my lips.

We bask in our happiness for a while, kissing and nuzzling together until I bring us back to reality.

"You're kind of an idiot for agreeing to move in with me," I say.

He laughs. "Why?"

"I don't really have anything planned," I answer. "We still have to get jobs and save up for a decent apartment."

"That's okay," Marco says. He sits up and stretches. Then he leans down and drags his heavy ass backpack over to the edge of the bed where he sifts through his stuff until he comes up with a textbook. "One step at a time, Jean. In the meantime, we can work on homework."

I groan and bury my face into the pillow. "I don't want to."

My voice was muffled by the pillow and it's a miracle that Marco even understood what the hell I was saying. But apparently he did and he's poking at my sides now, saying my name in a sing-song voice. I swat his hands away and tangle myself into my Marco-scented cocoon of blankets.

"Come on, baby it's only for a little while," Marco says.

I think over the pros of actually getting out of the blankets. There are none, because Marco will force me to do homework. He might even become cruel and refrain from kissing me until I do this torture. I need to make a compromise.

"I'll do my homework _if_ ," I say, grinning at my plan that's slowly forming. "I get to draw you."

"That's it?" Marco asks. "Fine."

I throw the blankets off of me and skip to my backpack which is lying over near the door.

"Take your shirt off," I order, standing up with my sketchbook in hand. "I haven't drawn you shirtless in forever and I need to practice anatomy."

Marco's eyes flick to the cracked door behind me, hesitating for a moment before sighing and carrying out my request.

"You're not going to do your homework afterwards are you?" Marco asks while tugging his shirt over his head.

"When am I ever going to need math after high school?" I ask, viewing Marco's body appreciatively.

"It'd probably help when you're counting the money that you earned from all the artwork you sold," Marco comments.

I hum and nod. "I was talking about the math with all the imaginary numbers and other bullshit but I see your point."

Marco laughs, his lips stretching into a pretty smile to accommodate it and we get to work.

Marco flips through his textbook and scribbles down notes in a tattered, nearly full notebook. 

I love capturing him doing normal things. 

I draw the way his brows furrow a little in concentration and his fingers playing with the top left hand corner of his textbook. I copy down his hunched back and his crossed legs and his bangs falling over his face like I saw in the cafeteria earlier today. I copy down his right hand, poised to take notes in his crappy little notebook and the freckles dotted around his body and his scar that can be seen from behind his right arm, which is stretched out of the way so he can write when he's ready. 

I copy it all down and continue on without reference when Marco switches the homework from one class to another. I think it's English based off of the worn book from the library, marked down with blue sticky notes. He curls up near the pillows and starts to read, a pack of blue sticky notes lying beside him before he remembers I was drawing him.

"Oh, sorry," he says. "Do you need me to pose again or something?"

I push lightly on his chest, making him lie down again. "No I'm good. I might copy you down like this too, you look cute."

Marco settles down on the mattress again and smiles. "Tell me if you are because I'm lucky if I find a reading position that I don't change after ten minutes." 

"I've decided," I say. "I'm going to draw you like this. I'll make it quick."

I shift on the bed until I find an acceptable angle to draw him again and get started. 

Sure enough, after nearly ten minutes, Marco starts squirming around.

"Are you done yet?" he asks.

I scratch over my sketchbook a little faster, my eyes flicking from the page to Marco at light speed.

"Just give me a little longer," I reply distractedly. Marco tries not to move too much but I can feel he soon feels the need to shift when his foot starts tapping and he keeps flipping back a page or two with a confused and distracted expression.

"Okay, I think what I've gotten is good, I free you," I announce. Marco sighs and sits up.

"I didn't know lying down could be uncomfortable until you're forced to do it," Marco says. 

"I'm so- _rry_ you're cute," I say. "Had to draw it down." 

Marco laughs and continues reading as I polish up my quick sketches. 

When the last sketch line is erased and the last curve smoothed I put down my sketchpad, yawn and stretch.

"You're done?" Marco asks, putting his book back into his backpack. I nod. "Let me see." 

I hand over the drawings. "They're not the best. I still need to work on how I draw your eyes, eyes are hard. And hands."

Marco nods and squints at the first drawing. "Why did you put my scar in?"

I scoot forward and place my hand over his scar. He doesn't flinch away anymore, instead he places his hand over mine and together we make a shield that protects him from nightmares, when he's awake and asleep.

"Excuse my sap," I say. "But it's a part of you. So it's beautiful. I won't cut a part of you out in my art, Marco."

Marco smiles at me and we both lean forward for a kiss, our hands still in the same place over his scar. 

We pull away and a question flits across my mind. Something that I haven't even thought about but now I think might be something that's a little important.

"Whatever happened to Thomas?" I ask. 

Marco seems surprised by the question but he doesn't hide from me. "He moved away. Before I did. We lied and told everyone that I forced the kiss on him but he still left after that."

"Did you, uh, lo-" I start but Marco cuts me off.

"I suppose I did at the time, but after having met you I'm not so sure how deep that love was. Maybe I was just afraid of being gay alone," Marco says.

I don't say anything. I lean forward and tuck my head underneath his chin, feeling the warmth of his bare chest seep into my cheek.

"Don't get into your head that I'm not over him," Marco scolds me lightly. "I've moved on."

"I know," I say, placing a kiss on his skin. "I love you."

”I love you too."

Marco shivers a little and pulls a blanket over his shoulders.

"When we get an apartment we are _not_ putting the bed next to a window," Marco grumbles. 

I scoot under the blankets with him. "Agreed."

"When do you think we're going to be able to afford it?" Marco wonders out loud.

"My parents are planners so they have some money set aside that we can use to actually buy it, but we're going to have to save up for the rent ourselves," I say. "Maybe by the time we start school we can?"

"We're using _your_ money to buy the apartment?" Marco asks. I reluctantly nod. "I want to pay for half. It's ours I don't want you paying for it all."

"Okay," I say.

"Sorry, I know we're going to have to wait longer," Marco says.

"Don't worry about it, angel. I understand," I reassure him.

We kiss for a while before the sound of the front door and trundling foot steps makes us break apart.

"Sounds like the twins are home again," Marco observes. He tugs his shirt on just as the twins come crashing into the room, all smiles and holding their little party favors. 

"Jean!" they exclaim upon seeing me.

They tackle me and I only just catch myself before I fall flat on my back. 

"Hey kiddos," I say. They grin and move to their brother who isn't as successful as I was in keeping himself upright.

They laugh and wrestle around the bed a little bit before finally settling down and excitedly telling us about the birthday party they went to.

"There was a magician!" Ace exclaims.

"Yeah, he pulled this cute bunny out of his hat. It's name was Snow White because it's fur was white as snow!" Adelina explains.

"And then he brought out an assistant from the crowd to hold the bunny while he did other magic tricks," Ace says, his excitement growing. "Guess who was picked out to be the assistant."

I grin and say. "No way. Was it you?"

"It was totally me!" Ace announces.

"That's awesome!" I say and raise my hand for a high five which Ace doesn't hesitate for a second to give me. 

Together, Ace and Adelina recite their time at the birthday party. They bring up more magic tricks and say that they totally didn't believe in them. Marco and I don't comment on the obvious excitement and wonder in their eyes when they speak about the magic tricks though.

They talk about the delicious chocolate cake that they devoured and all the pizza that was set up.

"I want chocolate cake like that for my birthday," Ace says dreamily. Adelina agrees and then they begin making glorious plans for their birthday. Including the amazing cake and an awesome magician with a cute, white rabbit.

They finally leave us alone when they realize that they should probably be telling their parents this. They are the ones paying for their birthday party anyways, Marco and I can only help them plan. We aren't much help to them in actually getting their stuff. 

They scramble downstairs, calling out for their mom so they can tell her their brilliant plans. 

Marco and I laugh softly together before burrowing under the blankets again.

"They're energetic as usual," I say. I peek over the blankets and over at Marco's window only to observe the snow  _still_ falling and piling up over the lawn, my car and the roads. I groan and flop back down. "Can I stay the night? I don't want to drive in this."

"You're going to have to speak to the authority around here, but I think it's okay," Marco says. 

"Alright, give me a moment," I say and make my way out of the bed. It's cold away from Marco and the small bed so I hurry through the house until I find Elena over in the kitchen, making some dinner. I can hear Ace and Adelina talking to their dad, who must have come home with them earlier.

"Hello, Jean," she greets me. It doesn't surprise me when she "sees" me with her back turned. She's like my mom with the eyes in the back of her head.

"Hello, I was just wondering if it was alright if I stay the night?" I ask. "I don't really want to go out and drive in the snow."

"Of course, we don't mind," Elena says. "But remember the rule."

"Yes,  _mom_ ," I say and laugh before dutifully reciting the rule. "The door must be open at  _all times_."

"Exactly," she says and smiles before turning and continuing with dinner.

I chuckle and make my way back upstairs to the little spot Marco has set aside for me in his bed. 

I dive into the blankets next to him and report what Elena told me.

"Permission was granted," I say.

"Yay," Marco says and kisses the corner of my mouth. We wrap each other up in our arms.

"Now let's sleep," I say burying my face in the crook of his neck.

"We're going to be awake at four in the morning if we do that," Marco says.

"We can plan what our apartment is going to look like then," I say and close my eyes.

Marco laughs. "Okay."

I drift off to sleep and begin to dream of making a life with Marco, beyond the apartment. To a nice little house with a white picket fence and maybe kids who come home excited after a birthday party they attended.

 

 

* * *

 

 

We end up finally moving in together in the fall of our sophomore year.

After working part time through our freshman year in college and living in the dorms we finally made it.

Freshman year was hard. We only got to see each other on the weekends and even then most of the time when we met up we were just doing school work. There was a time where we got frustrated and yelled at each other and cut off contact for a week. It was scary and lonely during that time and we made up soon afterwards, promising to never do that again.

Through all the struggle we're finally here, stepping into our little apartment that we earned together. 

We bought it with the furniture already in place so when we step in we're greeted with the look of an actual place a person could live in instead of cold, empty rooms that make our voices echo when we speak. 

Inside we're greeted with the familiar sights we saw when we were taken on our small tour of this place. To the left, on the wall just a few inches from where the door swings open is a mirror that hangs there. Underneath that is a thin table where a lamp is plugged in and is greeting us with the light coming from it. To the right is the living room. An armchair is set against the wall there, next to where the front door is located with a large window a little further down. In the little space that is left between the wall with the window in it and another one that creates an L between the two is the couch. Both the couch and armchair are red and match well with the brown carpet that dominates the apartment.

In the middle of the living room is a glass coffee table and its smaller twin is located to the right of the couch. It holds a lamp like the thin table that is next to the door. To the left of the couch is a wall that separates the living room from the tiny kitchen. A little ways down the wall cuts off and is reduced to a half-wall where a counter is hidden behind it. In the little space where the wall is actually whole is the refrigerator. A few feet across from that is the sink and dish washer. Next to those would be the stove and oven. The kitchen and the bathroom are the only parts of the apartment that aren't covered in the brown carpet.

Past the tiny kitchen and at the very end of the short hallway is an equally small bathroom. The floor is a brown tile that matches the carpet outside and to the left is the counter and sink and all that jazz. I really don't know what to say about this part of the apartment. I mean, it's a bathroom. There's a toilet squished between the counter and shower and a towel rack in front of it and that's pretty much it, other than the large mirror that hangs over the sink.

Right next to the bathroom door is the door that leads to the bedroom.

Now I know Marco and I promised that we wouldn't have our bed next to a window when we were seniors in high school and we kind of followed that promise. I mean the bed is a good two feet from the window, just enough for one of the bed side tables -holding yet another lamp- to squeeze into the space. I think that counts. Anyhow, I'm pretty sure Marco's going to force that side of the bed to be mine. The bed itself is a queen, the same size as the bed in my old bedroom at home. It's standing a little higher than that one though.

Anyways in front of the bed is the wardrobe and to the right is the other bed side table -and surprise, that one has a fucking lamp too- that looks exactly like the one on the other side. Then a few feet from there you've got the closet. There you go. Tour over, that's pretty much it.

As the saying goes, it's not much but it's home.

I throw my keys onto the thin table and sigh. Marco hugs me from behind and I lean into him. We're both tired from our dinner with our friends. They're a celebratory group and getting our first place together is definitely something worth celebrating to them. 

"Welcome home, angel," I say with a yawn. "Thank god, Reiner, Bert, and Armin are coming to help us unpack tomorrow because I'm too tired for that shit."

Marco laughs and we waddle our way to the couch. Marco seats himself and drags me onto his lap.

I lean my head back and Marco kisses me lazily for a moment before dropping his head onto my shoulder.

"I can't believe it took us more than a year to actually get here," Marco says and sighs in content.

"Are you happy?" I ask, reaching my hand back and petting his hair.

"Of course," Marco says.

"Hey, guess what we can do now that we have our own apartment," I say with a grin.

"What?" Marco asks a little hesitantly.

"We can have sex _anywhere_ we want," I say. Marco laughs.

"Is that what you're most excited about?" he questions, nipping at my ear.

"Doing it on the gross floor of my dorm definitely wasn't what I had in mind when we got our own places," I say.

"There was a paint stain on my ass for a few days after that," Marco remembers.

I laugh, remembering Marco's frown when I pointed out the blue stain on his right ass cheek and how he twisted until he finally found it. The way he arched his back and stuck his ass out brought about round two, except on the safety (and I use that word loosely) of my creaky bed.

"No paint stains to worry about here," I say.

"I would rather you keep it that way baby," Marco comments.

"Okay, I know I can be a messy artist, but it's not like I'm sloshing paint everywhere I go," I say. Marco hums and kisses my cheek.

"True," he says. 

He mouths down my neck and I sigh. "You know I'm starting to feel less exhausted." This statement is met with Marco sucking a hickey into the skin of my neck. Looks like I'm going to have to wear a scarf to class on Monday. "In fact I think I've got enough energy to christen this place."

"Yeah?" Marco asks, searching for a new patch of skin to mark up. 

I lick my lips and continue. "So where would you like to do it? There's a perfectly good counter over there. And the carpet is looking nice, of course the couch is always an option. And that coffee table looks inviting."

Marco eyes the coffee table. "It's glass, do you think it'll hold?" 

"Just what the hell are you planning if you're worried about a table breaking underneath us?" I ask.

Marco chuckles. "I plan on fucking you so hard you'll have trouble walking tomorrow."

I moan at his words and tug at his hair. "So what are you waiting for?"

"Did you bring any lube and condoms?" Marco asks, running his hands down my chest.

"Remember when we brought some food and clothes in earlier?" I ask. "Snuck some of those essentials in too. They're in the bathroom, in the cabinets." 

Marco groans and quickly disentangles himself. We stand up and Marco shoots off to the bathroom. I tug my pants and underwear off as quickly as I can, exposing my hardening dick.

Marco comes rushing back into the room as I'm kicking off my pants. He places the lube and condoms on the coffee table and shucks off his shirt and pants quickly.

"So where to, angel?" I ask. "The whole apartment is yours to fuck me in."

Marco groans and picks me up before gently setting me on the coffee table.

"Sometimes I forget how damn strong you are," I comment, watching him lather lube onto his fingers. 

My upper body is on top of the coffee table, my back pressed to the cold glass. My ass is hanging off the edge and I'm supporting myself with my legs, which I spread open wider for Marco.

He moves his first finger to my entrance which he slathers with lube before pushing in.

I moan until he stops moving his finger and keeps it in one place. We kiss sloppily until Marco starts thrusting again. I pull away and moan more, Marco's forehead resting on mine.

I try to relax the tightness around Marco's finger especially when he adds another one inside. The feeling of his fingers, moving in and out and brushing against my prostate tortuously make me crave more. So I try to relax as quickly as possible so we can hurry along to the main event.

I reach between us and pull at Marco's cock, hoping to spur him into moving faster. He's so gentle with me. I mean, I don't mind but it drives me nuts when I want him to fuck me until I can't move.

Marco groans and moves his fingers a little faster, scissoring them and soon adding a third. 

I sigh and arch my back a little, causing me to slide down the table just a little bit. Marco grips my hip and brings me back up, thrusting his fingers the entire time.

"Fuck, Marco," I moan. "I want you to fuck me right now."

Marco kisses me and removes his fingers. He scrabbles for the condoms and rolls one onto himself after tearing open the package. 

He slicks himself with lube and lines himself up to my entrance. I spread my thighs more and rest my head back, waiting for the first feeling of pressure when he pushes into me.

It comes with a quiet moan from him and a loud one from me. His cock pushes against my walls, stretching me pleasantly.

I moan and Marco lifts my hips higher where he knows he can thrust into me and hit me in my sweet spot.

Once his hips hit my ass he stops and waits for me to adjust. We kiss sloppily, our tongues moving around each other's mouths frantically.

He moves back just a little bit, making me whine into his mouth and tangle my fingers a little too roughly into his hair. He thrusts into me shallowly once, still making sure to take it slow so that he doesn't hurt me. It's just a little frustrating.

I lick at his ear and whisper. "I thought you said you would fuck me until I couldn't stand."

He moans and bites down on my neck. "You're good?"

"Fuck yes," I say and buck my hips upwards, urging him on.

He moans and sits up straighter. He spreads his thighs just a little bit for more leverage and actually  _thrusts_ into me. It leaves me shouting and reaching backwards, scrabbling for the edge of the coffee table where I grip it, hoping for it to ground me.

The force that he hit my prostate was a little insane and leaves me a moaning, shouting mess, barely able to get out the words "Marco, you're fucking amazing. Again."

 

He thrusts again, the slap of skin sounding through the room. I arch my back and leave my mouth hanging open.

"Faster, babe, fuck," I demand. He kisses me roughly, shoving his tongue into my mouth before withdrawing and carrying out my request.

He slams into me with as much force as the first couple of times but he doesn't stop so I can shout his name and recover. He keeps going, causing never ending shock waves of pleasure to course through my body. 

I curl my toes and grip onto the edge of the table behind me, feeling it shift underneath me whenever Marco thrusts.

I wrap my legs around his waist and dig my heels into his ass, silently telling him to keep his pace.

We're both moaning loudly, sometimes my voice raises and turns into shouts. Incoherent moans of each other's names are the only words exchanged for a time.

Marco's going so hard and so fast into me that I don't last too long before feeling myself tense and reaching the edge.

"M-Marco," I say, reaching out blindly for him, my eyes screwed shut.

Marco laces our fingers together and loses his rhythm, mostly concerned with the both of us cumming now. 

He grips my cock and starts pumping at it in time with his sporadic thrusts. I cum with a shout of his name and feel myself tighten and twitch around him. 

"Fuck, Jean, baby," Marco moans before his hips stutter. He moans loudly as he cums.

We both stay still, panting and making eyes at each other before he gathers me in his arms. 

He lifts me off of him and we both groan as he slides out of me. He takes the condom off and ties it up before standing shakily and throwing it away in the small trash can that is just outside of our kitchen. 

I slide to the floor and lazily wipe at the cum on my chest with a tissue from the box at the other end of the coffee table.

Marco comes back around and helps me clean up before lifting me to my feet. I groan as a feel a slight twinge of pain on my lower back, where I must have been resting against the edge of the table.

"Are you okay, baby?" Marco asks.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," I answer. I throw an arm over his shoulder and kiss him messily. "Let's go to bed, yeah?"

Marco nods and we make our way to our bedroom.

 _Ours._  I'm really loving that word. 

Just as I predicted, Marco eases himself onto the side of our bed that's the furthest from the window. 

I get in on the other side and we curl into each other immediately.

I smile at Marco and brush his hair back, letting my fingers trail down his face afterwards. 

We don't exchange any words. Instead we gaze at each other in a happy silence.

And it really is happy.

It's been so long since I was unhappy. It's been so long since I thought that life was kind of pointless and unfulfilling. It's been so long since the last time I thought  _is this it?_  

 

 


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean's gotten a little wiser with age. Marco's still together with this dork and is that wedding bells I hear?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, this would be it guys. Thank you so, so, /so/ much for reading! I learned a lot while writing this and it was super fun! Thanks for sticking along for the ride! :)

Our lives are made up of moments. 

Small moments and big moments swirl together to make our lives, amassing into this giant pool of memories. I think we tend to remember the small, angry moments. Or the moments laced with sadness. And when we do remember happy moments they're big. But those are few and far between. We forget about the small moments, painted with content and peace. Those moments tend to become more important when you're older. Those memories of cold mornings when your lover sticks their cold feet onto your back and they giggle maniacally or evenings spent chatting with a large group of friends with shitty beer buzzing through your veins are what dominates our lives. They're so normal, so mundane that they tend to slip beneath the cracks, but they're there and they're damn important. 

I thank all those little moments for getting me here to another big moment. A huge moment.

My wedding day. And standing in front of me in a suit that makes him look so handsome, so beautiful is the love of my life, Marco Bodt. 

He's wearing a black tux with a white button up shirt underneath and a dark pink bow tie that is the same color of the rose stuck to the collar of his tux jacket.

Our hands are clasped together in front of us and the sermon is droning on in our ears. I can't entirely hear what he's saying. It's all being drowned out with the buzz of memories swirling around my head. 

The first hello when we were seniors in high school. My buying him Subway the same day. Days spent laughing with him and my friends. Kissing Mikasa and finding out that she wasn't the one I wanted to kiss. My feet shuffling in the snow as I asked Marco out for the first time and having him kiss my cheek. Our first date, which stuck out in my memory the most when we were choosing wedding themes. I remembered the snowflakes hanging from that tree, the only ornaments I really remember, as Marco gazed at them and kissing him there. I think that was the first time how hard I was falling for Marco made itself clear. So, even though it's the middle of the summer we made the wedding winter themed. 

Winter is very important to us. All our big firsts happened in that winter of our senior year, both in high school and college. Because I proposed to him in the winter of our senior year in college. Moving in together was another big first but that was in the fall, but you know, technicalities. Winter showed up a month after that if that counts for anything.

I mostly remember when Marco had finally convinced me that the snow was really pretty. It happened slowly and we never explicitly acknowledged it but I finally stopped bitching about it after a while. Even when it caused me to have to stay over at Marco's house I didn't mind it, because I was with Marco and his adorable siblings and parents, who turned out to not be so bad after all. I actually thanked the snow on those nights.

Looking back on it, the more I started liking the snow, the more I decided life wasn't as boring and meaningless as my angsty teenage self had thought it was.

So I managed to convince Marco to make the wedding winter themed. Of course, winter was important for him too. It came with a lot of changes for him. In the early winter of the eleventh grade was when he was landed in the hospital and being pulled out of public school soon followed. He spent a year living a sheltered life where his parents barely let him out. Finally, in our twelfth grade year was when everyone in his family was tired of him being cooped up and he moved to Trost, to my high school.

So here we are, standing outside with the breeze that rustles Marco's hair and washes away a little of the summer heat. The grass is swooshing around underneath our sharply dressed feet and the trees behind Marco dance their leaves around, making it look like they're putting on a little cheer that two nerds like us could fall so hopelessly in love.

It's fresh smelling outside this manor that we managed to scrape enough money together to rent out. Our parents helped us pay for the wedding of course, we're fresh out of college and still poor as all fuck, but we wanted to pay for something completely by ourselves and renting this place out was what it ended up being.

I gaze at Marco's eyes, my expression, I'm sure, lifting into one of pure bliss. Just seeing the happiness in Marco's eyes is enough to make this whole thing worth it. I think that's what I was really looking forward to. I think my excitement for the wedding was all because of  _this_ look on Marco's face that I only saw in the movies. One of absolute and complete happiness and adoration -directed towards _me_ of all people- with the dream-like state of his lopsided grin.  

Weddings are kind of a surreal thing. I don't really feel like I'm here, I can't believe someone could be as happy as I am right now. Marco is right in front of me and is about to become my husband. My parents, my grandparents, and my in-laws who were lucky enough to not be blinded by bigotry, are sitting in the small number of seats set up. Behind me are all the groomsmen whom I've been friends with since what feels like forever. And behind Marco are the bridesmaids who I've also known for what feels like forever. They're all from high school and they all fought over who was going to have the honorary places next to the grooms. That argument nearly resulted in homicide so Marco and I decided that we would just make them all stand up here with us. They've been with us every step of the way after all, eating our food and drinking our beer for years. And giving us advice when we needed it and offering us a lending hand, just being there.

The sermon calls my name, something I barely catch and says. "Would you like to read your vows for us?"

"R-right," I say. I release one of Marco's hands after he gives me a reassuring squeeze and smile. I dig in the pocket of my tux and bring out a neatly folded piece pf paper. I don't want to let go of Marco's hand so I somehow work it open with only one. I nervously grin at him and take a deep breath before finally putting all my cheesy ass thoughts out there, reading from the piece of paper that I spent so long thinking over and typing up. 

"The first time I officially acknowledged that I was in love with you was when we were looking at the fireworks on our first New Years together. I still remember the way you smiled a little bit as the fireworks illuminated your face and the pop of them made it even clearer, like they were telling me 'hey dumbass _look_ at the angel in front of you.' And I did, and you were the most beautiful person I ever saw. You still are. 

"I think the first unofficial time I was realizing I was falling in love with you was on our first date. Again, you weren't looking at me, but I was looking at you and your smile. You were looking at some snowflakes that were hanging down from the tree and I wasn't aware of it at the time, but I think that was the first time I started falling, hard. And there were so many other times where I knew just how much I was plummeting, those are too many times to count and I think I would slowly turn into a tree with the amount of sap that I'd be exuding.

"But I didn't stop falling for you when I finally told you 'I love you.' Even after that there were times where I knew I was still falling and looking at you right now I know for a fact I still am. You showed me that the snow lying on our front lawn could be beautiful and it really is, even more so when I realize how in love I am with you."

The last part of my speech I stopped reading from the paper and looked Marco in the eye. I made those words up on the spot but that doesn't mean they're any less true or heart felt as the words that I spent days sitting in front of the keyboard thinking about.

The priest nods in approval, turning towards Marco, whose eyes were becoming misty with emotion.

"Marco, would you like to read your vows now?" he asks.

Marco nods and fumbles with his folded piece of paper much the same way I did. He clears his throat, smiles at me and starts to read to me.

"I've been thanking you since we first met. At first for just being my friend and taking me in when I felt like I had no one. Then for loving me when I felt like I didn't deserve to be loved. I could go on and on about what I need to thank you for. For all those dates that you took me on when we were younger and for supporting me through pre-med when I felt like breaking down from stress. I suppose I should thank you ahead of time for sticking with me as my husband when I officially go crazy in med school.

"But I think I should thank you the most for just being you and for being amazing ever since the first day that we met each other in our twelfth grade Anatomy class."

Marco finally brings down the paper that he had been peaking shyly from. He's completely red. I am as well, with love swelling so strongly in my chest. All I want to do is kiss him but I have to wait unfortunately.

We exchange an "I do" after the priest drones on for a little longer. It's the normal words at a wedding, words spoken so often between couples that I already know them. They aren't all that important anymore, they're predetermined and that's why we chose to write our own vows. They're entirely unique instead of the traditional words that anyone who has seen a decent amount of romance movies knows. I think the originality makes them a lot more special.

Then Ace hops up to us and hands over our rings. I take Marco's and Marco takes mine. I slip Marco's ring onto his finger. It's a ring that looks similar to the one that I saw on that Valentine's Day all those years ago. The thick band with the little silver diamond set into it is finally being placed on Marco's finger. The first time I slid it onto his finger when I asked him to marry me, didn't quite go as planned when I stood daydreaming in front of the display stand when I was a teenager. When I first proposed to him he said yes with the largest smile that I had ever seen on his face. We were in our apartment at the time and were cuddling on the couch, watching some shitty romance on Marco's laptop. He said something about how nice the wedding rings were and I slid down to my knees, mentioning that I had a better ring for him. I brought out the ring from my pocket which had been resting there for nearly three weeks, waiting for the perfect time to make its appearance. 

When it did Marco set aside his laptop and flung himself on me. We kissed each other and I finally slid the ring onto his finger. Marco was grinning and finally he left with a chuckle, telling me to wait.

"I guess there's no reason to hide this anymore," he had said. Then he went into our bedroom and came out with another small box. He opened it and presented to me a ring that was nearly identical to the one he wore, except with no flashy diamond set into the band. I laughed and he also slipped that ring onto my hand. The only thing that went according to plan was that we made love afterwards with our fingers entwined so we could feel the metal of each other's rings in between our fingers.

That night flashes through my mind as Marco's ring settles onto his hand and he takes mine. He slips the ring that's become so familiar in the past few months back onto my hand and we look up at each other, not having moved our hands from where we set the rings. 

"I now pronounce the two of you married. You may now kiss the groom!" the priest says. 

And I waste no time doing exactly that. 

Our lips finally meet and everyone cheers.

Everything is suddenly heightened in the surrealism of this moment. Everyone's clapping is sharp in my ears and the breeze is louder. It also feels better gliding across my skin. Marco's hand that's resting lightly on my cheek nearly makes me melt into a puddle because I can feel all the tenderness and love he holds for me in that simple touch and the way his mouth curls against mine in a smile.

We finally part after who knows how long. We start walking down the aisle, grinning at each other and occasionally turning our heads to smile at our family and friends who are following us inside the manor where the reception is being held.

We don't walk too far ahead of the group, though none of them approach us and leave us to saying "I love you" to each other as if we were still in high school.

When we finally reach the dining area we take the table set up at the front of the room. We place ourselves in the middle of the long table and because we have no maid of honor and no best man, because our friends would kill each other otherwise, our parents seat themselves on either side of us, beaming as if this was their own wedding day.

We didn't make assigned seats for everyone because, well, we're lazy and it's a relatively small wedding and everyone is mostly acquainted with one another, except for Marco's aunt although our friends took to Aunt Mina pretty quickly. My grandparents are also there. Also, Ace and Adelina, who were also part of the groomsman and bridesmaids.  So, pretty much everyone was standing up there with us except for the people who didn't have mac n' cheese on a regular basis.

Champagne was distributed to everyone -except the twins who receive apple cider- quickly from the staff and my mom stood up the moment everyone had their glass in hand. 

"Alright, I'm going to do this quickly before I start crying," my mom says, smiling down at Marco and I. "I am so proud of you two. One of my sons is on his way to becoming a famous artist and my other son is becoming a doctor. My Jean-bo is marrying a doctor."

Marco and I chuckle. I rest my hand on top of his and slowly stroke my thumb against the back of his hand.  

My mom ruffles my hair and I make an indignant noise that she ignores. "I am so glad that you found someone as wonderful Marco. I don't know if I'd be any happier with any other son-in-law. Oh, I just love you both so much."

My mom walks behind our chairs and kisses us both on the cheeks, multiple times. She tries to discreetly wipe at her cheeks as she seats herself between my dad and I again. My dad then stands and begins his speech as well.

"I'm sorry I wasn't around too often to see your relationship grow to this point. I was only ever around a lot when the holidays came around and during the summer. I hope to see your relationship and you yourselves grow even more. We do have what feels like forever after all." 

I  _beam_ at my father as he sits down again. He's always been my role model and I think just hearing him speak at my wedding day adds to this happiness that is far too strong to describe with words. 

I think this happiness is infinite. It's all those small, giddy moments that I keep returning to, all congregated into one moment. Right now. They're obvious and burn brightly above all those angry, dull moments that had snuck around the corners of my life for the longest time.

It is very hard to maintain a happy mood for longer than a day. But I feel like I can keep mine for months just from this moment. My hand on Marco's. My parents saying kind words to us and being happy that  _we're_ happy. And then looking out at all my friends who've been with me since middle school to our first year in high school. I've heard before that you lose your friends that you made in high school. I find that hard to believe in my case. In my case, I think our bonds got deeper after high school. We helped each other move into new homes. We gave each other coffee and alcohol when school became too much. Now we're attending each other's weddings. First Ymir and Christa's. Now mine and Marco's. And soon Reiner and Bert's. And Sasha and Connie's. Maybe Mikasa and Annie's after that.

I remember kissing Mikasa back then. I think that kiss turned the both of us hella gay, hella fast.

Marco's mother stands up next and she places a hand on his shoulder.

"I am truly sorry for the way I treated you two when you first started dating. We've learned there's nothing to be afraid of now though. We've learned that you two are very safe with each other. I am so happy that you two found each other and continue to shield each other from every day struggles and shower each other in love. Even though I'm not with you everyday, every time I see you two together I can see that clearly enough."

She sits down and then Marco's dad stands.

"I'm a man of very little words but I don't think I would pass up the chance to speak at my son's wedding. It's the modern day and let's face it, weddings aren't always a one time thing for one person anymore. And that's okay, that's their business. But looking at you two now I think this is the only time I'm going to be able to speak at my son's wedding, because I don't see you falling in love again as you've fallen in love with Jean."

Marco's dad,  _my_ father-in-law sits down.

There are whoops and cheers and claps from everyone and Connie stands up next. 

"I would just like to add one more thing. Do you guys remember at Ymir and Chrsta's wedding when we tormented them with the sound of clinking glasses?" Connie says with an evil grin. Marco and I groan, knowing what's coming. At Christa and Ymir's wedding we had tapped our silverware against our glasses non-stop just to bug the shit out of them. Of course, since every time we had to do that they had to kiss it took a while. But then at the end of the night even _that_ got annoying and Ymir growled at us to shut the hell up and that she would kiss her wife whenever she damn well pleased. 

Connie raises his champagne glass and starts tapping his fork against it, laughing like a man crazed with power. Which I suppose he is. 

The rest of our friends and our relatives join in. Smiling at us and waiting expectantly. Even Adelina who would have called us gross when she was eight years old and still does sometimes starts chanting "kiss him, kiss him."

Of course, my friends found this a brilliant idea and added their voices to the chant.

I roll my eyes and give them what they want (well, more like what  _I_ want). 

The kiss is chaste and our wide grins make it hard to do anything other than press our lips together for a time.

When we pull apart we don't move more than a centimeter and gaze at each other in our infinite happiness. I wonder if when I'm older I won't look at this moment as a giant moment. Maybe I'll look at it as a bunch of little moments scattered about in one single event that means a lot to me. Maybe I won't remember it as one giant movie that is my wedding day. Maybe I'll remember it as the gleam in Marco's eyes and his smile that's a hell of a lot wider on any of his normal days or as infinite happiness or laughing with all of my friends and family at a time that just so happened to be on my wedding day. I wonder if that's how I'm going to remember it.

Then we continue on with the reception with food that appears on the tables and champagne glasses that seem to magically refill themselves. Marco and I hardly have time to eat our dinner because our friends keep their unspoken promise of harassing us all night.

Somehow we _do_ manage to finish our dinner, amid the chatter and the kisses. Once most everyone is done with their food the DJ comes up and announces that it's time for Marco and I to have our first dance. 

Marco stands first and takes my hand, guiding me down to the dance floor and past the tables that seat our friends and family. We stand in the middle of the dance floor and Marco pulls me against him, his hand resting on my lower back while his other hand is clasping one of mine. I rest my hand on his bicep and we start swaying to the music just as it starts playing.

It's the same song that we listened to on our first Valentine's Day together. I remember feeling insanely happy that he thought of us when he listened to music, especially this song. With the soft piano and sounds that caress us and guide our feet in a slow, circular motion. We're not really dancing to this we're gliding along.

And I hardly notice everyone else watching us share our first dance.

We shuffle around as if we were dancing to this song in our small living room. We've done it before. Except now instead of dancing to it in our baggy shirts and sweats at two in the morning it's eight o' clock at night and we're in uncomfortably formal clothing. But we're also surrounded by people we care for and who care for us who are also in equally as uncomfortable clothing, even though they're being pushed to the back of our minds for the moment so we can focus on each other.

I step closer to Marco and twist our hands so that my knuckles are brushing against his chest and vice-versa. Now our fingers are laced together as well and I can lean my cheek against his because we're pressed together even more. This seriously impairs how much we can move but we don't mind.

We let the music and intimacy wash over us. I lift my head near the end song and kiss him. Our lips move together in a little dance as well for a little while until the song ends and we're surrounded by our friends cheers instead of our song.

Marco and I break apart with small chuckles and begin to dance again when our friends start streaming onto the dance floor when the songs change to main stream pop music. 

The music played isn't at all consistent. It jumps from slow songs to the stuff you hear on the radio a thousand times a day to lesser known songs and songs from back in the day (not that far back, like the eighties actually).

We dance around and I'm swung from one person to another. First my mom and then Elena and then to Sasha, Christa, Connie, Ymir, Reiner. To be honest I dance with _everyone_ at one point or another throughout the evening. But I always return to Marco's arms after a couple of dances spent away from him. 

Once we tire from dancing we return to our seats, alone. Our parents are on the dance floor so we have a few moments to ourselves.

"I love you," Marco says, kissing me before I can respond.

"I love you too," I say. We exchange kisses for a while. And elated smiles. Those too.

Marco brushes his hand over mine.

"I can't wait to flaunt the new title. We need to meet new people so I can pretentiously say, 'this is Jean, my _husband,"'_ Marco says.

"I think I could pull off pretentious better than you. And my bragging would be off the charts. 'Oh, you should meet my  _husband,_ Marco. He's such an angel. By the way did I mention he was my  _husband,'"_ I say in a very obnoxious voice. Marco and I snicker, silencing ourselves once we become enthralled in each other's eyes again.

Again, time seems to slip away from us and we're being dragged towards the grand, white wedding cake that has been carted out next to the dance floor after some more time spent looking over the face that I've memorized -right down to every freckle and line- over the four and a half years we've been together.

Once the cake is cut Marco and I take a slice that is set on dainty little plates. I pinch off a piece and offer to it Marco. Of course, right before I stick it in Marco's waiting mouth (heh) I swerve at the last second and shove it onto his nose. He glares at me before adopting a playful smile and smearing some of his cake across my cheek. We laugh and hear the dreaded tinkling of glasses.

"Lick it off!" Connie chants. There's been a lot of chanting tonight I've noticed. Like they're a cult, determined to embarrass and harass Marco and I.

I roll my eyes and turn to Marco. He shrugs and leans forward, before licking and kissing away the frosting spread over my cheek. I close my eyes and shudder. When he's finally done he takes a napkin and cleans the rest off, giggling all the while.

It's easier for me to get the frosting off of Marco's face. All I have to do is stick his nose in my mouth and he's all clean. Although, I do wipe at him with a napkin in case I missed anything. Can't have my angel walking around with cake on his face.

He smiles at me before giving me a proper bite of the cake. I offer him some as well and we're grinning and giggling again.

"Thank you, Jean."

"Anything for you, Marco."

* * *

After the reception we were kicked out and sent to go on our honeymoon.

We stopped by our apartment and changed into comfier clothes and gathered our suitcases before heading off again to catch our flight.

Then we spent a long-ass nonstop flight to Hawaii. We slept on the entire way there, drooling all over each other's shoulders and snoring into each other's ears. It's a miracle that we were actually able to stay asleep the whole way. We even had to be woken up by someone so that we wouldn't end up stuck on the plane. 

I got out our bags and paused for a moment to admire the wedding band on my left hand.

After we left the airport we got a taxi and watched the outside flash by from the slightly smelly interior. There were lots of palm trees and everything looked kind of... white and sunny and happy, even though it was six in the morning here, an ungodly hour. Marco laced our fingers together and gazed out the window some more at the foreign landscape. It's a lot flatter here than at home and once we drive for long enough I can see the ocean in the distance.

Now we're standing in front of the massive hotel that we're to be staying in.

"I think our parents might have lied about how expensive the rooms were," I mumble.

"That is very possible," Marco says.

In front of us towers a white hotel with a giant turtle hanging proudly from the top of the building. The lawn around it is well kept and from some of the rooms there's a beautiful view of the beach that's just a three minute walk from the hotel.

We gather our bags from the trunk of the cab and pay the cabbie before making our way into the lobby, which is fucking breathtaking. The floors are marble and it's _huge_. There's a seating area that takes up a good half of the place and the rest of it is just open space with some pillars that come from the middle of the floor. A man with a parrot is standing near the pillars and a small group of people are surrounding him.

Marco and I drop our jaws to the floor.

"Yeah, I think they lied about the cost," Marco whispers.

"It-it's fine, we probably got a room on the ground floor, with a view of the lawn or something," I say, dragging us to the very long counter that is the check-in desks.

It turns out that I couldn't have been more wrong about what floor our room was on because it was just past the middle of the hotel, towards the upper parts of it. Marco and I make our way up in a daze, making a resolution to call our parents when we find our room.

We eventually navigate our way towards the door with our room number on it and... it's a suite. There's a living room and small kitchen that's honestly the size of the one at home. Then there's a terrace right behind the flat screen television where we can stand outside (or sit because of the chairs set up out there) and admire the perfect view we have of the ocean. I gape at that for a little while before Marco's voice brings me back to reality.

"I found the bedroom," Marco announces, putting our things down just next to the door. I place them there too and notice the cracked door to the bathroom that's on the opposite side of the window that _also_ gives us a kick ass view of the ocean.

I creep into the bathroom and am blown away.

"Babe," I say, waving my hand behind me, trying to get Marco's attention. "Babe, there's a fucking jacuzzi."

Marco stops admiring the _massive_ bed that occupies most of the space in the bedroom and peaks over my shoulder.

"Oh my god," he whispers. In the corner of the bathroom is a jacuzzi that doubles as a bathtub that could hold _at least_ three people. It's in the shape of a pentagon and...  _oh my god_ it looks so beautiful. Whenever I got frustrated with my laptop and said technology was stupid I take it back. I take it all back. 

Marco and I slowly move back into the bedroom and when we finally look at each other we laugh.

"I think this place is nicer than our home," I admit.

Marco chuckles. "We're going to need to call our parents at some point."

We laugh together before stepping forward and embracing.

"So now that we're done exploring, what do we do?" Marco asks. There's a moment of silence before he continues. "Aren't we supposed to have sex or something because this is our wedding night?"

I snort. "We spent our wedding night on a fucking plane. Plus, I don't really... feel like it right now."

Marco nods. "Me neither. Who knew that sex could feel like an obligation."

I lift my head and wiggle my eyebrows at him. "Wanna try the jacuzzi instead?"

"Hell yes," Marco answers immediately.

We giggle and set to stripping off our clothes while stumbling our way into the bathroom and filling up the jacuzzi, waiting completely naked on the tiles of the bathroom, bouncing on our feet in excitement.

When we finally slip in we sigh in contentment and slide down in our seats, feeling the bubbles cascade around our bodies and the heat from the water. It's fucking amazing. 

We sit there, groaning and feeling our muscles relax to jelly, for a long time. This is doing wonders for our bodies that were stuck on a plane for ungodly amounts of time.

I finally drag myself to where Marco's sitting and seat myself on his lap. He peaks an eye open and grins at me.

"Why hello there," he says.

"Hi," I say. I lean down and steal a kiss. It's short and even a little chaste but Marco soon changes that when he sucks on my lower lip and drags me forward by my hips.

I sigh into his mouth and drape my arms over his shoulders. He kneads my ass with his sturdy hands and I move back onto them.

"I thought you said you didn't want to," I say, nipping at his bottom lip.

"There's only so long I can see you naked and groaning before I change my mind about something like that," Marco murmurs. I laugh quietly and kiss him again.

He tilts his head back and opens his lips, welcoming my tongue into his mouth with his own tongue. They writhe together, but the slick sounds they make can hardly be heard over the roar of the bubbles in the jacuzzi.  

Marco grinds up slowly, sensually, really. I respond by scooting forward until we're pressed flush together.

Marco moves his hands up and down my back, causing small sounds from the water whenever he moves his arms.

We move against each other fluidly, grinding our hips together and sighing into each other's mouths or necks until we're both hard.

"I'll get the lube," I say and kiss him one more time before standing up. I rush over to our luggage and sift through it until I find the tiny bottle.

I walk back into the bathroom, anticipation coursing through my body. As many times as we've had sex there's something about right now that fills me with the same feeling as our first times together. Maybe it's just the fact that we're in a place other than home or in a tropical state with the ocean right outside our window. Maybe it's the fact that we had our wedding and this is the first time we're going to have sex as husbands. Maybe it's just that we're in a jacuzzi. Or maybe it's because our wedding reminded me of how in love I am with Marco and I can't wait for the intimate connection that I've never experienced with anyone other than Marco.

I sit back on Marco's lap and hand over the lube when he reaches for it. I wait patiently as he slicks his fingers. When he's done and sets the small bottle on the outer part of the tub I lift my hips and lean forward.

Marco kisses me and runs his hands down my body. While one cups my ass the other immediately goes to my hole, familiar with the path of my body after all these years. 

When his first finger presses into me I whimper quietly and brush my lips against his.

Patiently and gently Marco prepares me for him. It isn't frantic and rushed like those times where we have ten minutes before we have to leave for class and want to get off. It's a hell of a lot more intimate. Like those nights filled with apologies and recovering hurt feelings, right after making up from a fight, or nights filled with an overwhelming sense of adoration and love for one another after a date or simply after glancing at the rings that rest on our left hands.

It's just Marco and I in this moment with the water creating tiny waves and ripples around our bodies. 

"Marco," I whisper and reach for the lube again. I slick him up, slowly, making sure I cover every inch of him. He removes his fingers from me when I raise my hips and move forward.

I sink onto him with a quiet and breathy moan, intermingled with his own. 

When he's fully sheathed inside of me we sit there and kiss each other, deeply and slowly. The bubbles have stopped at this point and the sounds of our lips smacking together is clearly audible, the sound bouncing off the walls and back to our ears fairly loudly in this little corner. 

Soon the craving for a little more movement outweighs the strong feeling of tranquility that peppers our kisses and prevents us from moving too much, for fear of breaking something so fragile.

I move slowly, pressing my hips backwards and forwards, sometimes trapping my hard cock between Marco and I. We stop kissing when I begin to move a little more, instead holding our lips together and stilling our tongues. Sometimes a whimper or a groan will escape from the confines of our sealed lips at which point we would stop moving, our hands, our hips and wait until the one who made the noise is able to gather themselves again. 

I begin to circle my hips slowly. I can feel Marco move around inside me, the sensation causing low moans and whispers of Marco's name to escape my mouth and cascade over whatever patch of his skin that my lips are brushing over.

I swivel my hips some more, maintaining the slow pace until Marco places his hands on my hips and stills me. He lifts me up, just enough so that he can thrust into me with minimal impairments over his movements.

This is slow as well, patient and gentle as he fills me up and retreats over and over again. Sometimes he stills and stays buried inside of me when the head of his cock brushes  _perfectly_ over my sweet spot and causes shivers to rack my frame. 

We don't break eye contact, save for the moments when I tighten around Marco or when he brushes over my prostate, causing us to close our eyes and moan a little louder than usual. But we open our eyes whenever the feeling becomes manageable again and stare into each other's eyes again. Our lips are parted, eliciting moans and breathy murmurs of each other's names into the air between us.  

The build up to our orgasm feels no different than times where we fuck each other's brains out. Which is a little odd considering we're going slow and the loudest I've been this entire time was the first time Marco hit my sweet spot and thus starting the shock waves of pleasure that are now leading me closer to release.

Marco's panting more and gripping onto my hips a little tighter and I can tell that he's close too but he doesn't speed up, he thrusts into me at the same gentle pace that he has been. 

I lean down and kiss him, lazily placing my tongue in his mouth. Our tongues glide over each other, that being the majority of our kiss until we're both coming and moaning into each other's mouths, lips never separating. 

I feel the heat of Marco's cum pumping inside of me and the throb of his cock. I twitch around him as my own orgasm takes a hold of me, causing me to make a mess out of both of our torsos. 

We moan and groan and kiss tiredly until we finally come down from our high.

I smile at him -one hundred percent sure that it's a dopey, goofy smile- and rest my head against his.

"I love you," we say at the same time, sounding more like one voice rather than two. 

We chuckle and hold each other for a long time.

Then I yawn noisily, causing Marco to yawn as well. 

"Tired, baby?" Marco asks, smoothing his hands over my back.

I nod. "Guess so."

I finally lift myself off of Marco and begin cleaning myself out. When I'm done we drain the water and travel back to the bedroom where we flop onto the bed.

We immediately gravitate into each other's arms because I think this is the only place that we really feel at home in. In this island that we've never been to before, even though it's  _gorgeous_ it's still a long way from our physical home. Here, in each other's arms home doesn't feel so far away anymore.

I think this is one of those small moments that I'm going to remember for the rest of my life. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! If you guys would like feel free and go to [my ask box](http://theotpaffect.tumblr.com/ask) and leave comments or questions about this fic, or just talk to me, I'm cool with that! I'll publish a new chapter every Monday or Tuesday, depending on where you live really (for reference it's Mondays for me here in the US).  
> I'm going to say this a lot but it doesn't make it any less true! Thank you so so much for reading!


End file.
